


The Intrepid Tales of Team Red

by MangoKat



Category: Carmen Sandiego (Cartoon 2019)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-06 23:27:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 37,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21447664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MangoKat/pseuds/MangoKat
Summary: A series of tales about the heroes and villains of Carmen Sandiego. Each chapter is a new short story.This is a companion piece to the Team Red Family series. It's not necessary to read the main story, but it's recommended for context.
Comments: 31
Kudos: 105





	1. Trapped

**Author's Note:**

> Authornote:
> 
> Welcome to my series of short stories. Every chapter will be a story about a different Carmen Sandiego character. These stories will vary in length from very long to just short drabbles. I will do my best to update as frequently as possible. These stories are all in the same AU as the Team Red Family series that I'm working on. It's not necessary to read the main story, but it's recommended for context.
> 
> If you're enjoying the story so far, please let me know your thoughts. I'm open to all suggestions and criticisms as it helps me improve the story.
> 
> Happy Reading!

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**The Intrepid Tales of Team Red**

**Chapter 1-** **Neal the Eel**

**Trapped**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**.**

**V.I.L.E Academy- Class of 2005**

**.**

Neal felt his breath quicken, and he hurriedly ducked into a nearby classroom, hiding behind one of the desks out of sight. He waited a few seconds holding his breath, and then cautiously peered around the desk towards the hallway. Maybe they hadn't seen him?

"Hey, beaver!"

Neal's shoulders slumped. Aw, crap...

Three figures appeared in the doorway, and Neal disappeared out of sight, crawling silently down the row of desks away from them.

"Come here for a second!" one of the boy's demanded.

'Not on your life.' Neal thought to himself, heading for the exit at the back of the room. Once he was within sight of the door, Neal sprinted towards it, knowing he was faster than them.

"There he is!" the leader of the group bellowed. "Someone grab him!"

Neal made it to the exit and flung open the door, only to crash face-first into a fourth goon. The boy quickly grabbed him by the arm, and Neal kicked and struggled as he was dragged back into the classroom. He was immediately surrounded by the others.

"You were right, Rhino, he **did** try to sneak out the back door!" the boy exclaimed in delight.

Codename: The Rhino was a massive solid wall of pure muscle, standing at nearly seven feet tall, and three feet wide, and his mean streak was a mile wide. He had targeted Neal on day 1, and every moment since had been complete hell. Neal knew he was in for a rough time, and struggled to get away, the other boy's grip like iron.

"Heya, beaver, why are you looking so afraid?" Rhino asked, grabbing a handful of his hair.

Neal winced as his head was forced back, and he didn't answer, looking around desperately for a way to escape.

"You guys want to see something cool?" Rhino asked, grinning over at his minions.

They returned the grin. "Sure." one them replied.

The Rhino nodded at them and grabbed one of Neal's arms. "Get a load of this!"

He bent Neal's arm straight back behind him, and Neal winced, his flexibility being forced to its limit.

"Whoa!" one of the boy's cried out. "That's crazy! How can his arm do that?!"

"His whole body's like this!" Rhino told them, bending Neal's other arm into the same awkward position. "He's like a human pretzel."

Neal's arms were in absolute agony and he knew if they were forced back any further, they would either break or dislocate. He kicked out at the other boy hard, and instantly regretted it when Rhino's expression morphed into rage.

"Oh, the beaver thinks he can fight, does he?" he demanded.

A moment later, Neal tasted blood as a fist connected with his face. Going submissively limp in his captor's hold, he looked up just in time to see the fist come back at him again, this time hitting one of his eyes. Rhino released him, and Neal fell to the floor clutching at his face, his hands quickly filling with blood from his nose. He scrambled to crawl away from them, but Rhino grabbed him by the ankle and gave his leg a hard tug, sending him chin first into the floor.

"Now, get a load of **this**." Rhino said, grabbing Neal by both feet.

Rhino lifted Neal's legs up and began bending them backwards over his back until his feet rested beside his head, his spine pretty much bent in half.

"Oh, that's so creepy!" one of the boys laughed. "It's like he's made of rubber!"

"S-Stop!" Neal cried out, certain they were about to snap his spine. "Please!"

"Oh, so the beaver can talk!" Rhino mocked.

"You're hurting me!" Neal yelled.

The Rhino bent his back even more and Neal let out a loud shriek of pain, causing the boys to laugh.

"He talks funny." one of the minions said with a snicker.

"Yeah, he's like British or something." Rhino replied.

"I-I'm Kiwi." Neal wheezed out, eyes watering from the pain.

Rhino scowled at him and bent him again, causing Neal to let out a scream.

"Don't you correct me!" Rhino snarled. "You're anything I **say** you are, you buck-toothed freak!"

Neal shrieked again as he was twisted in a way his body wasn't meant to move.

"Apologize for disrespecting me!" Rhino ordered, applying pressure against his legs.

"I'm sorry!" Neal wailed out. "I'm sorry!"

"Oh my god, he's crying!" one of the boy's laughed. "What a loser!"

Rhino smirked down at him, and finally released his legs. Neal remained where he was on the floor, too scared and too humiliated to move. Rhino placed a foot on top of him and then applied pressure to his ribs, delighting in how Neal sobbed even harder.

"Well, it's been fun, beaver, but I have to get to my next class." Rhino said, turning towards the door. "I'll see you first thing after school though, you can count on that."

Rhino high-fived his goons, and they laughed as they approached the door. They froze when they saw Coach Brunt standing in the open doorway, watching the whole exchange silently. Rhino edged past her with an innocent smile.

"Er, morning, Coach Brunt." he greeted. "Fine day, isn't it?"

"Morning, gentlemen." she replied, looking them up and down thoughtfully. "You'd better run along before you're late."

"Yes, ma'am." Rhino replied, scurrying past her as fast as he could.

Coach Brunt watched them leave and then she entered the classroom, heading for her desk without a word. She glanced down at Neal briefly, but didn't comment. Taking a seat, she opened her desk drawer and pulled out a stack of folders. She shuffled through them for a moment, and found what she was looking for, and set it aside as she returned the rest of the folders to her desk.

"Come here for a second, Neal." Coach Brunt ordered, not even looking at him.

Neal glanced up at her, and then slowly got to his feet, wincing in pain as he did so. He limped his way over to her desk, and she waved him to sit down. He did so, and wiped at his eyes, feeling beyond embarrassed. Coach Brunt pushed the folder towards him and he glanced down at it, seeing it was his own student record.

"I'm going to be frank with you, chickpea. You're going to fail training."

Neal hung his head, and knew what she said was true. He'd been doing terrible since term began, and there were very little signs of improvement.

"First term is almost over, and if you don't make a drastic improvement, you're going to be sent home."

Neal's face turned red, and he looked down at the floor. Coach Brunt stared at him for a moment and then let out a sigh.

"You're smart, **very** smart in fact, but that's not the only thing we require in our thieves. I understand that you're shy, and you're not used to this type of environment, but you need to adjust. Do you know why I didn't help you just now with those bullies?"

Neal glanced up at her and shook his head.

"It's because you need to learn to handle these situations yourself. You're a small peanut of a kid, and there will always be enemies that are bigger than you. If you can't learn to defend yourself from schoolyard bullies, what chance do you have as a thief?"

Neal hung his head, and stared down at the floor. Coach Brunt let out another sigh.

"Start fighting back, chickpea. Even if you lose, fight back. You're exactly the type of person I would have bullied as a kid, and I'm telling you right now, you need to **fight**. Even if you fail, at least go down giving it everything you have."

Neal picked up his student file and glanced through the comments left by the teachers. He was doing excellent on the academic portion of things, but he was failing spectacularly at anything physical. The teachers were recommending expulsion after first term. Neal swallowed the lump in his throat and set down the file. Coach Brunt watched him for a moment and then frowned.

"Do you want to be a thief?" she asked.

"Y-yes." Neal whispered.

"Do you want to work for V.I.L.E?"

Neal nodded. "Yes."

"Then buck up, and get your shit together." Coach Brunt said. "The end of term is in three weeks, and if you don't pass my self-defense exam, you **will** be sent home, is this clear?"

Neal gave another nod. "Yes, ma'am."

Coach Brunt looked him up and down, and then handed him a tissue. "Your face is bleeding." she stated. "Now, think about what I said and get to your next class."

Neal dabbed at his bleeding nose, and nodded. "Thank you." he said in a quiet voice.

"Make me proud, chickpea."

As Neal left the classroom, he knew he was doomed. What chance did a skinny little Kiwi have against Rhino of all people? Neal was eighteen and his voice had only **barely** changed and he still hadn't gotten his final growth spurt. He was a little five foot five nobody that didn't stand a chance in hell at winning in a fight. He was going to be expelled out of V.I.L.E and there was nothing he could do about it. Neal clenched his fists, and felt like screaming. He wanted this, he wanted it **so** bad. Why couldn't he have been born like Rhino or Coach Brunt? Why could't he be strong? Neal glanced down at his fist, and wondered if he should start fighting back. He definitely wouldn't win, but at least they couldn't call him a coward.

As Neal slipped into Shadowsan's class quietly, he decided he wouldn't back down when Rhino found him after class. Shadowsan narrowed his eyes at him for being late, but when he saw the blood and bruises on the boy's face, he looked away and pretended he didn't notice him. Neal was grateful for that at least, because he honestly didn't think he could handle a Shadowsan lecture on top of everything else right now. He pretty much floated through the double-length class in a daze, his mind entirely on the fight to come. His hands folded the origami swans one after another, and he didn't even notice when he had exceeded the ten they were required to make.

He had no idea why Rhino hated him so much, the other boy singling him out on the very first day of term. Neal knew the boy loved making fun of his teeth, and Neal was very self-conscious of them, knowing they were an eyesore. He had been waiting for his appointment to get them fixed for nearly two months and tomorrow he'd finally have a normal smile. The V.I.L.E dentist assured him by the time she was done, his teeth would look just like everyone else's. Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.

When class finally ended, Shadowsan paused at his desk and glanced down at his twenty-three perfect swans and the one Kiwi-bird he had made on a whim. He didn't say anything, but he rested a hand on Neal's shoulder and then passed him by, almost as if he knew the turmoil the boy was going through. Neal stared at the birds on his desk and then let out a groan. It was time to face Rhino, and he knew he was in for a world of pain.

Getting up from his desk, he left the classroom, steeling himself for the fight to come. A knot of worry settled in his stomach, and as he walked the halls, he felt like he was walking to his doom. It didn't take long for Rhino to find him and the taller boy strode up to him, wide grin in place.

"Hey, beaver, I was just looking for you!"

Neal clenched his fists. Fight. He had to fight. Without any warning, Neal lashed out with a fist and punched Rhino in the stomach as hard as he could. It was like punching a wall, and Rhino didn't so much as flinch. Rhino stared down at him in surprise, and Neal stared up at him like a deer in headlights. All of Neal's bravado was gone in an instant, and he backed up a step. He was definitely going to be murdered. Sure enough, Rhino bared his teeth in snarl, his beady little eyes narrowing in fury.

"You're **dead**." Rhino snarled, taking a step towards him.

Neal turned tail and ran as fast as he could away. Nope. Nope. Nope, this was a mistake. All a mistake. A very, very **big** mistake. Letting out a squeal of terror as Rhino thundered down the hall after him, Neal had no idea what he was going to do. He ran through the halls as if his life depended on it, and for all he knew that **could** be the case.

"Come back here you little coward!" Rhino bellowed after him.

"I'm sorry!" Neal called over his shoulder. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!"

"I'm going to break every bone in your body!" Rhino promised. "You're going to be nothing but hamburger by the time I'm done with you!"

Neal's terror only grew, and he flew down the hall as fast as he could, the other students simply watching in vague curiosity. Neal knew he couldn't keep running forever, and he needed to find somewhere safe he could hide. He couldn't think of a single place the giant brute wouldn't find him. Neal's eyes then widened in realization. Rhino was enormous whereas Neal was very thin and small. Neal could fit into small places that Rhino had no chance of ever squeezing himself into. Neal's gaze fell on the air-vents that lined the hallways. They had been warned not to attempt to climb into places too small for them, but Neal felt confident he wouldn't have an issue. Neal was thin and flexible and there was no way any of Rhino's goons would be able to reach him in there.

Making a split second decision, Neal kicked one of the low vents open and then dove inside just as Rhino reached him. Rhino grabbed at his ankle as he squirmed inside and Neal lashed out with his foot, connecting his heel solidly with Rhino's nose. Rhino let out a bellow of pain and Neal squirmed is way into the vent as fast as he could out of reach.

"I'm gonna kill you!" Rhino screamed into the vent. "Just you wait until I get my hands on you!"

All of a sudden Rhino ripped the cover off the next vent and reached in for him. Neal moved as fast as he could, for once glad to be as thin as he was. Rhino ripped cover after cover off the vents in the hallway, but Neal was too fast for him to catch. When Neal finally came to a turn in the vent, leading deeper into the building, he was finally out of Rhino's reach. Rhino glared in at him, and knew there was no way to get him.

Neal continued crawling deeper and deeper into the building, wanting to put as much distance as possible between him and Rhino.

"You have to come out eventually!" Rhino yelled. "And when you do, I'm gonna snap your ugly little neck!"

Neal didn't doubt that in the least, and continued crawling until he could no longer hear him. Stopping to catch his breath, Neal laid his forehead against the cool metal of the vent, and let out a deep breath of relief. He was probably going to be beaten to a pulp later, but at least he was safe for now. When he had rested for a few minutes, he continued squirming his way forward, knowing he was now somewhere near the center of the complex. The vent was a tight fit, but since he couldn't turn around, he had no choice but to keep moving forward. The further he moved along, the smaller the vents got and Neal began getting nervous when he had to slow his pace down to carefully squirm his way through. He almost got stuck a couple times, but with his flexibility, he was able to work himself loose and continue down the vent, hoping he would come to an opening soon. Beginning to feel a bit claustrophobic as the vent got smaller and smaller, Neal exhaled the air in his lungs to flatten himself down even further and pushed forward through the narrow opening. It was then that he realized he was very **very** stuck.

Panicking, Neal squirmed and wriggled, but he couldn't move at all. It was difficult to breathe, and he kicked and struggled, but no matter what he did, he didn't budge an inch. He couldn't move forward and he couldn't move back. He could barely see in the dim light, and Neal realized he was in very big trouble. Not caring how embarrassing the situation was, he began yelling for help as loud as he could. He yelled and yelled, and finally he heard an answer.

"Er...hello?" a boy's voice yelled down the vent. "Is someone there?"

"Yes!" Neal yelled out in relief. "Please get help! I'm beached as!"

"...what?"

"I'm STUCK!"

"Uh, are you in the vent...?" the boy asked uncertainly.

"Yes!" Neal yelled back. "Just get help!"

"...okay, I'll get a teacher."

An eternity seemed to pass and finally he heard a voice. He cringed when he realized it was Shadowsan.

"Hello, is there someone in the vent?" the stern teacher demanded.

"Yes, instructor Shadowsan! Please get me out, I'm stuck!"

"Who is this?" Shadowsan demanded.

"It's Neal..."

"What in tarnation are you doing inside an air-vent?!" Coach Brunt's voice demanded angrily.

Neal cringed again, realizing there were more people there than he thought. "Um...long story." he called back. "I can't move."

"How far in are ya?" Coach Brunt demanded. "I don't see you."

"Pretty deep, I think... Can you please get me out? It's hard to breathe in here."

The sound of the voices carried really well in the vents and he could hear every word they said.

"How are we going to get the little nuisance out?" Coach Brunt demanded. "No one can fit in a space that small!"

"I think we should get Dr. Bellum. She might have an idea of what we can try."

Neither teacher sounded very happy with him at the moment and he had a feeling they'd have a **lot** to say to him when he finally got out of there.

"Hang tight, chickpea, we'll be back." Coach Brunt called into the vent.

There was silence once again in the vents and after a few minutes, he heard Dr. Bellum's voice.

"Honestly." she complained. "Like I'm not busy or anything. I was right in the middle of an experiment! I'll check to see how far in he is, but I don't know what you expect me to do about it."

There was a pause and a few moments later, a small round robot walked its way towards him shining its bright lights at him. Neal stared at the robot and then gave it an embarrassed wave, knowing Dr. Bellum was probably watching through a camera. The Robot looked him over, observing how tightly he was wedged in, and then left the way it had come.

"He's deep in the main foundation of the building." Dr. Bellum said, her voice troubled. "We can't knock down the walls to reach him or the whole building would collapse."

"Can't we just get him a rope and yank him out?" Coach Brunt asked.

"No, he's around too many corners and you'd just end up breaking his arms from the force."

"Then what do you suggest?" Coach Brunt demanded.

"There's no way to safely extract him." Dr. Bellum replied, sounding nonchalant. "He'll have to stay there."

"We can't just leave one of our students to die in a vent!" Shadowsan said, sounding furious.

"I see little we can do." Dr. Bellum responded. "One student is not worth tearing down the whole building for. He was failing his training anyway, and it's not a big loss to the academy."

"Can't we just punch a few holes through the wall?" Coach Brunt asked, sounding upset. "Poor little thing..."

"No, it would jeopardize the structure of the building. We have no way to reach him, and no way to help him. The boy is remaining in the vent."

"What about the smell? He's going to stink up the entire building if we leave him there." Coach Brunt pointed out.

"I suggest bricking up the vent before that happens." Dr. Bellum said. "He won't live more than two or three days without water anyway."

"I suppose that would hide the smell..." Coach Brunt admitted. "Such a shame...he was still a child..."

Shadowsan made a disapproving sound in the back of his throat, and Neal had never felt more horrified in his life.

"You can't leave me here!" he yelled out. "Please, I'm scared! Please!"

There was no reply.

"Shadowsan, please! I'll do better in my classes, I promise! I'll work hard! **Please** don't leave me here!"

"I'm sorry." Shadowsan's voice sounded genuinely regretful. "I'm truly sorry."

"Wait! Wait!" Neal bellowed, feeling panicked tears coming to his eyes.

There was no answer.

"Shadowsan!"

Neal had never been more afraid in his entire life and he struggled and squirmed until his skin felt raw, but he still couldn't budge an inch. He was alone in the quiet and darkness for hours and the true horror of the situation kept growing and growing. Neal realized this vent was going to be his tomb, and he took a shuddering breath, trying very hard not to become hysterical. He reached up and clutched at his head, simply closing his eyes and wishing he wasn't so stupid. There were all warned repeatedly not to crawl into spaces too small to fit, and he hadn't listened. He was going to die because he was too much of a coward to face his bullies.

Neal couldn't tell how long he'd been there in the vents, but he awoke not even realizing he'd fallen asleep. It was a lot darker than before, and Neal figured it must be nighttime now, and he once again resumed his squirming. He still couldn't move, but now a new worry made itself known. He had to pee. Kicking and fighting to get loose, he only succeeded in tiring himself out, and he bit his lower lip, feeling frustrated and helpless. His throat was feeling really dry from the dusty air, and he wondered how long someone could go without water. Was that why Dr. Bellum said he'd only live two or three days trapped in here? He knew very well they could have given him a bottle of water, but he figured they didn't want to prolong his suffering by hydrating him.

Letting out a moan of misery, he once again gave an ineffective squirm. By the time morning came, Neal felt like his bladder was going to burst, and he fought to ignore it, not wanting to die in a puddle of his own urine. Almost in amusement, he remembered his dentist appointment was supposed to be that morning. He'd almost had the chance to look normal, but that was snatched away from him too. He was going to die in an air-vent with buck teeth. Perfect.

His stomach chose that moment to give a loud growl, and he frowned, knowing dying in this fashion was **not** going to be much fun. Did dying of dehydration hurt? Would he simply fall asleep and never wake again, or would he be aware of every second of his death?

Neal shuddered, knowing death was lurking in his future, and it scared him to think about it. Every thought, feeling, and memory he'd ever had would be gone in an instant, almost as if he were never there at all. Would anyone even remember him? What was in the darkness that waited for him? He wasn't a religious person, and doubted the existence of a god, but the thought of nothing after death also wasn't very comforting. The never-ending blackness of nothing seemed to stare at him the more he thought about it, and he felt icy terror fill him. He didn't want to die! He was only eighteen, and this wasn't fair!

Neal let out a loud scream of frustration and despair, and he struggled with everything he had, not realizing how every person in the academy had heard him. The scream had been filled with so much pain and fear, that even the staff were unnerved by it, and they knew Neal's death wouldn't be too long. It was hot and dry in the vents and he was probably already dehydrated and weak. Neal screamed until his voice was raw and he collapsed in exhaustion, his body shaking in terror and shock. He fell into a fitful sleep, his mind plagued by nightmares fueled by his fear and the dehydration.

The whole school breathed a sigh of relief when he finally fell silent, and the staff knew they wouldn't have to worry about the noise for long. Shadowsan was a lot angrier than usual, and his students didn't dare cross him, the teacher losing his temper over the smallest of mistakes. The students knew about the boy in the vents, but no one really knew much about Neal, and they kind of shrugged it off, figuring the staff would eventually rescue him. Shadowsan would glance at the vents every time he passed them and an unreadable look crossed his face, knowing there was nothing he could do.

When Neal awoke again, he was dismayed to find that his body had betrayed him the second he let his guard down, and he'd wet himself in his sleep. Moaning in absolute misery, Neal felt tears come to his eyes. He was now not only trapped in a vent, but trapped in a vent while **wet**. How could it possibly get any worse than this? The only thing he needed now was for rats to start gnawing on him or something.

He'd never been so thirsty in his life, and Neal had a feeling he probably wasn't going to last any more than another day or so. It was now the morning of his second day in the vents, and he was feeling weak and sore. No one was coming to save him, and no one cared whether he died. This was what the rest of his life was going to be like.

Allowing the tears to flow, Neal raised a hand to his face and sobbed, not even caring that other people could probably hear him through the vents. He cried long and hard, simply wishing his death would come sooner so he wouldn't have to suffer any longer.

Someone did hear him crying, and she glanced towards the vents, having no idea who she was hearing. It was incredibly early in the morning, and she was the only one up, and so she approached the vent in her room and placed an ear against it. Frowning in confusion, she peered into the darkness but couldn't see anything. Someone sounded like they were in severe distress, and she felt like it was up to her to investigate. Approaching her bedside table, she dug around for a moment and found a flashlight. Turning it on, she lifted the vent cover and peered inside. The cries seemed to be coming from deeper in the vents than she could see, and so she hesitated for a moment and then crawled inside.

Neal had both hands over his head as he cried, and he definitely wasn't expecting to suddenly feel a touch on his arm. Letting out a very unmanly screech of surprise, he looked up and came face to face with Black Sheep. The little four year old girl was laying on her belly and looking up at him with huge and concerned blue eyes.

"Hello." she said, her eyes looking him up and down in worry.

Neal sniffed wetly and stared at the little girl. "...hello." he replied.

"Are you crying?" she asked him in concern.

Neal suddenly felt very foolish and hurriedly wiped at his eyes. "No."

Black Sheep reached out and wiped her hand across his wet face. "Yes, you are." she said. "Why are you crying? You're one of the big kids! I've never seen one of the big kids cry before."

Neal rested his chin on his arm and simply stared at her.

"You smell like pee." she informed him. "Did you have an accident?"

Neal groaned.

"It's okay." she whispered, leaning in beside his ear. "I sometimes still have accidents too."

"I'm stuck." he told her miserably. "I don't suppose you could help pull me out, could you?"

"I can try!" Black Sheep promised. She took hold of his hands and then began tugging him as hard as she could. A four year old didn't have much arm strength however, and he didn't budge.

"Sorry." Black Sheep told him with a frown. "Maybe I should go get a grown-up to help us?"

"The grown-ups already know." Neal told her. "They couldn't get me out either. I'm just stuck here forever until I die."

Black Sheep could see how upset Neal was, and she laid a kind hand on top of his arm. "My name is Black Sheep." she told him.

"I know." Neal replied. Everyone on the island knew of V.I.L.E's little mascot.

"What's your name?" she asked him.

"Neal."

Black Sheep gave him a bright smile. "Don't worry, Neal, I'll save you! I gotta get back to my room though before my nanny notices I'm gone. I'll come back later!"

Neal watched the little girl crawl away down the vent and didn't have much hope. What could a toddler possibly do to get him out of there? Incredibly weak and tired, Neal rested his head on his arms and he drifted in and out of sleep until he felt a tiny hand tap him on the arm. Looking up, he saw Black Sheep in front of him, holding a juice box in one hand and a bag of goldfish crackers in the other.

"You missed breakfast so I brought you a snack." she told him.

Neal seized the juice box eagerly and drank it down so fast, he didn't even know what flavour it was. Black Sheep gave him a disapproving look. "Now you don't have any left for the fishies!" she scolded.

"Sorry." he answered, still terribly thirsty. "Thank you though."

Black Sheep set the bag of crackers down in front of him and offered him a smile. He returned it, and her grin widened even more.

"Your teeth!" she exclaimed.

Neal immediately raised a hand to cover his mouth in embarrassment. "Yeah, I know." he told her. "They're pretty bad. I was supposed to get them fixed at the dentist yesterday."

Black Sheep cocked her head. "Why would you do that?" she asked.

"To make them look like everyone else's teeth." he responded. "To make them normal."

Black Sheep furrowed her brow. "But I think they're perfect the way they are!"

Neal let out a snort. "They're bucked and I have a gap in my front teeth." he pointed out.

Black Sheep nodded. "And that's what makes you special." she insisted. "It makes you different from everybody else and I think it's wonderful! Your smile is beautiful the way it is, and I hope you don't change a thing about it!"

Neal had no idea what to say to that and shook his head. "You are a weird little kid, Black Sheep."

"And you're a weird **big** kid." she countered. "I'm still trying to figure out how to get you out of here."

Neal gave her a nod, not having much hope.

"I'm not supposed to play in the vents because I could get stuck." she told him. "Didn't they ever tell **you** that?"

Neal's face reddened at the fact he was being schooled by a toddler. "Yeah." he admitted.

"And you did it anyway?" she asked.

Neal gave her a nod. "...yeah."

Black Sheep let out a big sigh. "You're going to get in big trouble." she told him. "Shadowsan will take away your dessert."

Neal knew he was in a lot of trouble right now, just not the kind Black Sheep was thinking of.

"I gotta go again before they notice I'm gone." Black sheep told him. "I'll be back later, I promise."

"Could you please bring me a bottle of water, Black Sheep?"

"You're still thirsty?" she asked him in concern.

He nodded. "Yeah, very thirsty."

"K."

He watched as she crawled off, wondering if he could starve a bit of body-fat off himself to get loose. If he could get Black Sheep to keep bringing him water, then he might be able to wriggle free after a couple days of starving himself. He was already very thin, however, and wasn't sure if it would be enough. He pushed the crackers away so they wouldn't tempt him.

To his surprise, Black Sheep returned after just a few minutes, dragging a 2L Pepsi bottle filled with water behind her. She rolled it towards him and then said.

"I couldn't reach the sink to fill it and so i had to fill in in the bathtub. It's cold though."

"Thank you." Neal said, never more grateful in his life.

"I really **really** gotta go now though. Bye, Neal, see you later!"

Neal wasted no time opening the bottle, and he drank as much as he could, letting out a big sigh of relief. He wasn't going to die from dehydration now, and Neal felt hope stirring in his chest, feeling like he might actually survive this. All he had to do was be patient, and endure being hungry for just for a few days. Not having anything else to do, he napped off and on throughout the day, wondering if Black Sheep would return to see him again. He was actually a little disappointed when night came and she hadn't returned. Knowing he could make the water last if he needed to, Neal knew he couldn't depend on a four year old to save him. Who knows what distracted her from coming back. Anything from a shiny new toy to a beetle could distract a toddler, but he hoped it wasn't because she was in trouble for helping him.

When morning came, he was once again poked awake by Black Sheep.

"Heya, love." he greeted tiredly. "Where've you been?" he asked.

"My nanny knew I was up to something so I couldn't come back." she explained. "I know how I'm going to get you un-stuck though."

Neal raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" he questioned.

Carmen pointed to the metal bucket she had dragged through the vent with her. Neal squinted at the bucket in confusion.

"What's that?" he asked.

"I stole all the bacon grease from the kitchen." she told him proudly. "I'm going to pour it on you!"

"...er."

"It's reeeeal slippery." she told him. "If you're covered in bacon grease, you'll be able to slide out of this tunnel just like one of those slippery water snakes!"

"You mean an eel?" Neal asked, furrowing his brow.

"Yeah!" Black Sheep agreed. "You'd be an eel! Neal the Eel!"

She giggled at her own joke and Neal gave her a smile, amused. He stared at the smelly grease with a wrinkled nose, but knew this was actually a really good idea. If he was greased up, he might be able to work himself loose.

"Ok, lambchops, let's give it a try."

Black Sheep nodded, and then grabbed a hold of his t-shirt and began pulling at it.

"Um, whatcha doing?" Neal asked as she yanked and yanked.

"Take off your shirt so you're more slippery." she ordered.

"I don't really want bacon grease all over my skin." he replied. "The clothes are one thing, but on my actual skin is kinda...ick."

Black Sheep crossed her arms, and gave him a scolding look. "Do you want out or not?" she demanded.

Neal let out a groan, once again realizing a toddler was smarter than he was, knowing she was right.

"Okay, okay, but I doubt we can even get it off."

Black Sheep grabbed the shirt and he obediently reached his arms forward and to his surprise, she pulled out a pair of scissors and began slicing at the shirt. A few moments later, she gave the shirt a tug and it easily slipped over his head. Wiggling a bit to see if that gave him any more room to move, he found he was still jammed at the shoulders.

"Close your eyes." she ordered, lifting the bucket.

He barely had time to do as he was told before she poured some of the grease over his head, his chest and back instantly becoming a greasy mess. The grease was still warm from breakfast and Neal grimaced at the horrible sensation.

"Try to get out!" Black Sheep ordered.

Neal squirmed and wriggled and found his shoulders would now move, but his hips were still stuck fast. "No good, love, my legs are still stuck."

Black Sheep gave him a thoughtful look and then gathered up her supplies. "I'll be right back." she told him. "Don't move."

Neal smirked at her. "Oh, ha ha." he replied.

He watched as Black Sheep crawled away, and winced at the feeling of the grease covering him. With his luck the smell would probably attract bugs and he'd be eaten alive by ants or something. Resting his chin on his arm as he waited for Black Sheep to return, he definitely wasn't expecting one of his sneakers to suddenly be yanked off.

"Black Sheep?" he called back.

"You need new sneakers." she told him. "Yours are full of holes and they smell."

He felt his other sneaker removed, followed shortly by his socks.

"What are you doing?" he asked her.

He got his answer when she began yanking at his pants.

"Whoa! Whoa!" he protested indignantly. "No way, kiddo! Get away from there **now**!"

She stopped and he thought she was doing as she was told, but then a moment later, he felt scissors cutting the pants off him.

"Knock it off!" he yelled at her.

"Oh stop being such a baby!" Black Sheep scolded him. "Your pants are in the way!"

"I'm not letting some two-year old kid see me in my underwear!" he snarled, trying to push her away with one of his legs.

"I'm four and a half!" she yelled back. "And stop moving!"

Neal could have kicked her, but he wasn't going to hurt a little kid and so he was helpless to stop her. A few moments later, she gave a hard tug to his pants and he heard them rip and a second later she had them off.

"Oh my god." Neal groaned. "Coach Brunt is going to tear my head off. You've just ensured my swift murder the second she finds out about this."

Black Sheep scoffed. "I'm not supposed to be here." she responded, dumping the oil all over him. "I'm no tattletale as long as you don't tell on me for being here."

Neal squirmed and he felt himself move. "I'm not stuck!" he exclaimed in delight. "Black Sheep, you did it!"

"Okay, but I really gotta go. My nanny probably knows I'm not having a nap. Bye Neal."

"Thank you!" Neal said. "Thank you so much, kid!"

He heard Black Sheep crawl off down the vent and so he began squirming and wriggling forward, surprised at how easy it was to move now. He made it to the bend in the vent and from there, it widened slightly to make it even easier for him. He crawled as fast as he could, and finally he saw light through a vent cover ahead. Using his hands to knock it aside, he slid out of the vent, landing on the floor of the hallway with a loud 'splech'. Laying there gasping, he looked up and saw he had fallen out of a vent in the main hallway during morning break and dozens of people were simply staring at him. Very aware he was covered in grease and urine, and wearing nothing but his underpants, he couldn't be bothered to feel embarrassed and simply waved at the crowd.

"Hello, just thought I'd slide in for a bit." he said.

"**You**!" a familiar voice suddenly bellowed.

Looking up, he saw Rhino staring down at him in shock and outrage. "They promised us you were going to die in there!"

Neal was way too tired to deal with this. "Sorry to disappoint you, love. There's always next time I suppose."

Rhino's eyes narrowed, and he charged over hand outstretched. "I'm going to kill you myself!" he snarled.

Rhino grabbed a hold of his arm and went to jerk him forward, but Neal slipped out of his grasp. They stared at one another in surprise, and then Rhino tried again with the same results. After spending three days in a vent waiting for death, a simple beating didn't seem that frightening anymore and Neal simply stared at him, not running away. Rhino saw the lack of fear, let out a growl and swung out a fist, intent on smashing the other boy's head in. The grease allowed Neal to drop to the floor much faster than he normally could, and using his flexibility, he swung himself around, kicking Rhino's feet out from under him. Rhino hit the ground hard, and Neal felt rage fill him for the way the other boy had treated him for the past three months. He'd been beaten, ridiculed, humiliated, and Neal was not allowing it to happen any more.

He lunged at the other boy, and drove his elbow into Rhino's face as hard as he could, slipping out of the boy's grasp when he tried to grab him. Neal wasn't very big, and he wasn't very strong, but he aimed every attack on Rhino's face and the other boy couldn't get away from him. Every time he tried to get up, Neal tripped him again, and immediately went for the face. Neal hit him over and over with everything he had, and it wasn't long before the other boy was yelling out for his friends to help him. The crowd was simply watching the show, this being the most bizarre fight they'd ever seen.

"Okay, chickpea, that's enough. You won."

Neal looked up at Coach Brunt and saw her watching the fight with a pleased look on her face. Neal remembered how she had left him to die and scowled at her. Without a single word, he ran at her, taking her by surprise. She quickly stanced herself, ready to take him on, but Neal threw himself to ground and bowled her legs out from under her instead.

"Bloody arse!" he snarled.

Realizing what he just did, his eyes widened, and he scrambled to get away as she reached for him. Luckily she couldn't get a grip on him, and Neal ran for it, taking off down the hallway as fast as he could. The greased up boy running through the academy certainly gained attention, and everyone stared at him in disgust as he passed. Ignoring them, he made it to his dorm, and grabbed a fresh set of clothes, and hightailed it to the showers. Hoping to at least be clean before he was brutally murdered, he hopped in the shower and reached for the soap. It was to no surprise that Coach Brunt was waiting for him in the dorms when he returned. He winced and eyed the door, wondering if he could outrun her.

"I'm not angry." she told him.

Neal gave her a skeptical look, still keeping his distance.

"I'm actually pretty impressed you managed to knock me off my feet." she said. "If you keep fighting the way you just did, I can see you making very good marks in my class."

Neal's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"I'm sorry for what happened to you in those vents, but we didn't have much of a choice. We couldn't get to you."

Neal crossed his arms. "You left me to die."

"I would have saved you if I could but there wasn't a way." she assured him. "How did you manage to get out?"

"I'm a teenager." Neal replied. "We're oily. Three days of no showers did the trick."

Coach Brunt looked him up and down with a wrinkled nose, knowing he was lying, but not sure she wanted to know the real answer.

"Just get to class." she ordered. "You need to catch up on what you missed."

Neal nodded and headed for the door. Just as he was almost past her, she reached out and grabbed him by the front of the shirt. Easily lifting him up so they were eye to eye, she gave him a dangerous look.

"I let it go this time, but if you **ever** attack me again, it will be the last thing you do, do I make myself clear?"

Neal hurriedly nodded.

Coach Brunt released him, and Neal gave her one last wary look and then fled out the door. He was supposed to be heading for the Countess Cleo's class, but instead, he headed for Dr. Bellum's lab, knowing the doctor would be there at this time of day.

He passed by the medical wing and he suddenly heard someone call his name. Pausing, he glanced back and saw the V.I.L.E dentist approaching.

"Neal, you missed your appointment with me on Tuesday." she said.

"Yeah, I got **stuck** doing something else." he replied. "Things got a little **greasy** for a while, but it's all worked out."

The dentist didn't get the joke and simply nodded. "I have an opening this afternoon if you want me to squeeze you in."

Neal smiled at her, catching sight of his teeth in the mirrored wall behind her, and a certain little lamb's words came back to him.

"Naw, love, I've changed my mind. I like myself just the way I am."

The dentist looked uncertain. "...are you sure?" she asked. "Your teeth are kind of...um..."

"Variety is the spice of life and all that." Neal told her, turning to walk away. "Sorry about the short notice about canceling."

"Well, if you change your mind." she told him, still seeming skeptical.

"Sure thing." Neal said, continuing down the hallway. "I'll keep it in mind."

Neal headed down into the basement and came to Dr. Bellum's lab. There was a sign taped to the door that said 'Do Not Disturb'.

He shrugged and knocked on the door anyway, and when he heard a distracted grunt, he peeked inside and saw Dr. Bellum working on some sort of mechanical device. Approaching, he peeked over her shoulder and saw she was working on a strange robotic arm with claws.

"Dr. Bellum?" he asked.

"I'm busy." she answered, not looking up.

"Can I talk to you for a second?"

"I'm busy." she repeated, giving him a glance out of the corner of her eye. She clearly didn't recognize he was the same kid from the vent.

"I was hoping you could help me something?" he persisted.

"I'm **busy**." she repeated with a bit more force.

"Well, it's just that I have an idea for an invention, but I don't know how to proceed with it."

Dr. Bellum turned around to face him, setting her project aside. "Tell me about this invention." she ordered, her attention on him fully.

Neal took a seat beside her. "I have an idea for a new kind of suit, a sort of SLICK suit..."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**I hope you guys enjoyed my first short story! :D**

**Please leave a review to let me know what you think!**

**Updates will hopefully be once a week**


	2. Sugar, and Spice, and Everything Nice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: If you want a happy story, this is definitely not for you. There is violence, drugs, use of derogatory language and swearing in this chapter. I tried to make the interactions as genuine as possible, hence the reprehensible language. I do not agree with the use of any of these words, and they are used for story-telling purposes only. This story is rather gritty and so you've been warned.
> 
> If you're enjoying the story so far, please let me know your thoughts. I'm open to all suggestions and criticisms as it helps me improve the story.
> 
> Happy Reading!

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**The Intrepid Tales of Team Red**

**Chapter 2-** **Dash Haber**

**Sugar and Spice, and Everything Nice**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**.**

**November 2007**

**Crotona, Bronx, New York**

**.**

A few snowflakes sprinkled down from the sky as a boy and his mother crossed a deserted parking lot. It was late at night, and the boy looked decidedly unhappy as they walked along.

The boy shivered from the crisp fall air, and crossed his arms as they came to their destination. "I don't want to do this!" he complained.

"You're the one that's been complaining about outgrowing your clothes!" his mother replied impatiently.

"Can't we just go to a store?" he demanded.

"You think I'm made of money?" she snapped. "Where do you think I'm supposed to get that kind of cash? Stop being ridiculous and get in there!"

The boy let out a low groan and then approached the salvation army donation bin. His mother held the slot down and he crawled through the narrow gap, only having to suck in his belly a bit. Once he was inside, his mother handed him a flashlight and closed the flap to hide the light.

"I need new jeans and your father needs a few shirts." she informed him. "Now dig fast before someone sees us."

"If you gave up smoking for a few days we could just buy our clothes instead of stealing them." the boy pointed out.

The woman scowled and slammed her hand against the side of the bin. "Don't disrespect me, Justin! I do the best I can. It's not like you ever help out with the bills!"

Justin rolled his eyes, wanting to point out that he was thirteen, but knew there was no point. "Whatever, mom."

"Hurry up."

He pushed a small bag of clothes out through the slot. "There are needles in here, mom." he pointed out. "I just got stabbed by one."

"Stop complaining. Just be careful and you won't get stabbed!" She scolded. "Honestly, Justin, I've about had it with you today!"

Justin muttered angrily to himself, and his mother slapped the side of the bin again.

"Shut your mouth, and keep digging!" she ordered. "You're lucky you're getting anything at all after that stunt you pulled last week. I had to pay fifty dollars for that fine, FIFTY dollars!"

Justin winced at the memory, still having bruises from his father over that one. "It wasn't my fault Jimmy narked on me!" he defended. "That little weasel sold me out the first chance he got!"

"You shouldn't have been stealing in the first place!" his mother snarled.

"We're stealing right now!" Justin snarled back.

His mother let out a sigh. "It's not stealing. These bins are for the needy, and we're needy."

"Then why do we only take stuff in the middle of the night?"

"Stop arguing with me! Did you find anything good or not?"

Justin had been digging through all the pants pockets looking for change and he'd found about five dollars so far. Knowing she was going to become suspicious about what was taking him so long, he pushed another bag of clothes out that he'd already packed. He then continued his search, hoping to find enough to pay for a new wheel on his skateboard.

"Hurry up!" his mother ordered. "You're taking way too long!"

He pushed out another bag and then continued searching. "I'm almost done." he told her. "Just a minute."

He found another few dollars and then grabbed the last bag of clothes he'd gathered. He squeezed himself back out through the donation slot, and his mother took his arm to help him down. She glanced around to make sure no one was watching and then grabbed two of the bags, leaving the other two for her son to carry. As they hurried off into the night, Justin scowled at nothing in particular. 'Happy 13th Birthday to me' he thought bitterly to himself.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Go get me some smokes."

Justin looked up from screwing the wheel of his skateboard on and glared at his mother. "I'm busy." he snapped, swatting a cockroach away from his work area.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You want that junky thing tossed in the fire?" she demanded.

Justin let out a long-suffering sigh and set down the screwdriver. "Fine, but you're buying me a soda."

"I don't got money for that, the check doesn't come until next week. I need you to bum a few smokes in the park."

Justin looked mutinous, but he simply set his skateboard aside and got to his feet.

"There's a sweater on the table for you." she informed him. "I washed it this morning."

Justin turned his gaze to the cluttered kitchen table and saw an unfamiliar sweater. Approaching, he picked it up and saw it was a thick sweatshirt with the local hockey team's logo on the front. There was a tear in one shoulder, but otherwise it was in pretty good shape.

"Where'd **this** come from?" he asked.

"Found it." his mother answered, her attention fully on the television. "Don't take too long. Your father's in a bad mood and if he comes home to no smokes, then it'll be your ass that gets it."

Justin let out a sigh and slipped the sweatshirt over his head, knowing it would be warmer than what he had on. Both knees were ripped out of his jeans, and he shoved his feet into ratty sneakers that were much too small. Knowing he looked like a piece of gutter-trash, he headed for the door, just wanting to get this over with.

Shivering from the cold, he made his way to the park, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep warm and wishing he had a winter jacket. Despite the cold weather, there were quite a few people at the park, and he spotted two of his friends sitting on the swings smoking. Justin was about to join them, when someone caught his eye. He stopped and turned to look at the person.

A boy around his age was standing nearby with his family, and was smiling widely as they built a snowman. Justin found himself looking at the boy's light fluffy hair, his blue eyes and nice smile and felt the odd stirrings in his chest that he'd been getting lately. He immediately scowled. Why was he noticing these things? He didn't **want** to notice these things! For several months now, he kept finding his gaze lingering a bit too long on the boys around him, and he felt disgusted with himself. Justin had a reputation in the neighbourhood of being a rough kid, and he loved how the other kids were afraid of him. No one dared mess with him, and he knew in the Bronx reputation was everything. He'd be damned if he let people think he was gay. He **wasn't** gay, his body was just confused because of his recent puberty. It was nothing more than that.

Glaring at the smiling boy with hate-filled eyes, Justin headed for his friends. He sort of waved at them and then settled himself to stand beside them without a word. One of the boys passed him a lit joint which he accepted and took a drag of, still not saying a word.

"Saw what you did to Jimmy." one of the boy's told him. "You really fucked him up."

Justin gave a shrug, passing the joint back. "He was a snitch."

If there was one thing Justin was talented at, it was fighting. He had a short fuse and was quick to use his fists to settle his problems. He was thin but wiry, and now that he was getting taller, he was starting to take on older kids as well. Running his fingers through his rat's nest of a haircut, Justin leaned against the swingset with a sigh.

"The cops have been looking for you." the other boy said. "Jimmy's mom is pressing charges. They say you're gonna go to juvie for this one."

"Who said that?" Justin demanded.

"Juan did."

"Juan's a fag." Justin responded.

"You call **everyone** a fag." the boy replied with a scoff. "You're obsessed."

Justin glared over at him. "Gimme a few smokes." he ordered.

"Naw man, I only got a few left."

Justin turned his attention to the other boy who shook his head.

"I don't got none."

"I'm broke and I need a few smokes." Justin said, his eyes narrowing. "Lend me your smokes and I'll pay you back."

"No." the boy said firmly. "I told you I only have a few!"

"Give me the damn smokes!"

The boy narrowed his eyes at him in return. "You've been a real asshole lately." he told him. "I don't want to hang around you anymore."

"Excuse me?" Justin asked, furious.

"That's the shirt my mom threw in the dumpster behind our building." the boy told him smugly, pointing to Justin's sweatshirt. "You're wearing trash!"

"It is not!" Justin snarled.

"Yeah, it is! Look, it even has the tear on the shoulder from when I fell off my bike! You crawled through our dumpster!"

Both boys began laughing and Justin saw red. He lashed out and punched the boy as hard as he could in the face, knocking him off the swing. He then went for the other boy, swinging and hitting as hard as he could. Despite it being two against one, Justin pounded both boys until they were crying. Grabbing the pack of cigarettes out of his ex-friend's pocket, he was about to turn away, when he was suddenly grabbed by the arm. He looked up into the face of a man, and recognized him from the happy family. His pretty son stood by his side staring at him with wide blue eyes, and Justin clenched his hand into a tight fist. The boy's innocent face seemed to burn into his brain, and Justin snapped.

"Stop staring at me, you fag!" he screamed out, striking the boy in the face with every ounce of strength he had.

The boy fell to the ground with a cry, and the father released Justin's arm to reach for his son. Justin stared for a moment, and then turned and ran, just wanting to put as much distance between him and the boy as possible. He ran and ran until he was completely out of breath, and when he finally paused for a moment, he reached up and pulled the sweater off, slamming it down into a trashcan as hard as he could. He was sick of this. He was sick of everything. What the hell was wrong with him? Clutching at his head as he cursed his stupidity, he ignored how the cold air bit at his bare arms.

He continued walking without any real destination in mind, and soon found himself farther from home than he'd ever been. Hugging his arms to his chest, he just kept walking and walking, ignoring how cold he was getting. He knew the police would have been called on him by now, and so it was no surprise to him when, after an hour or so, two officers ordered him to freeze. Too cold to even bother resisting, Justin simply stood there as the cops got out of their car and approached him.

"You really did it this time kid." one of them told him. "You just assaulted the mayor's kid, and there's no way he's letting you get away with this. It's juvie this time, pal."

Justin then told the cops **exactly** what he thought of them, and he found himself thrown to the ground and cuffed within seconds. They tossed him into the back of the police car, and Justin scowled, hating everyone and everything. He sat in silence as they drove along, and Justin soon found himself staring out the window at the various shops they passed. As they waited at a red light, Justin's gaze settled on a store with shiny golden pillars outside the doors. The colour catching his attention, he stared at the shop and then at the fancy man in a suit that exited. The man was tall and thin and the suit fit him perfectly. He wore an elegant hat on his head and held a fancy walking cane in his hand.

"Leopold's Haberdashery." Justin read out loud. "What does haberdashery mean?"

One of the cops glanced back at him, and then at the shop that had caught his attention.

"It's a rich person store." he answered. "A haberdashery sells men's clothing and accessories. Suits and ties and stuff."

Justin stared at the store in wonder, never seeing anything like it before. Even as they drove on, he kept his eyes on the store, that same odd stirring growing in his chest.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

For the entire thirty days he got in Juvenile Detention, Justin couldn't get the store out of his mind. He thought about it day and night, wondering what sort of things rich people would buy in a store like that. The man from the shop looked posh and important, and like no one he had seen before in his neighbourhood.

Upon his release, Justin had taken off from home before his father could get his hands on him, and he found himself wandering in the direction of the shop. Not caring that it was a long walk, he ignored the bitter cold and once again left his neighbourhood. When he finally saw the glint of the golden pillars, he felt a small jolt of excitement and headed straight for the shop. He stopped in front of the large window display and stared inside, his eyes taking in all of the fancy things. The clothing was absolutely beautiful, the fabric looking like something out of a fairy tale, and Justin stared at all the trinkets and fancy ties with his mouth gaping. He found himself with his nose pressed against the window as he stared at all the things he would never be able to afford, and he felt a strange desire enter him. All the things were so beautiful, and he imagined what it would be like to own these things. No more stolen clothes from the donation bin, no more ill-fitting shoes, and no dirt and fleas. Just elegance and comfort.

Justin shook his head. No. These things were gay. His father would murder him if he so much as **touched** any of these fancy things. Boys wore bluejeans and sport's jersies, they didn't dress like fairytale princes. Justin glanced back at the window and bit his lower lip, just wanting to stare at these things for a bit longer. A feeling of longing settled in his chest, and Justin clenched his fists, angry at himself for feeling this way. His eyes settled on a customer inside the store, and Justin found himself staring at the man, his expensive clothes and expensive and perfect hair igniting a familiar fluttering feeling in the pit of his stomach. Justin hurriedly looked away. He wasn't gay.

Taking a deep breath, he turned away from the shop and headed home, feeling like he had crossed some sort of dangerous line.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Justin couldn't get the shop out of his mind. It was now Christmas Eve and he stood with his mother at the grocery store as she waited in line to buy a carton of cigarettes. He was bored out of his mind as the lines were enormous and he just wanted to go home. A candy bar catching his eye, he picked it up and when he was sure no one was looking, he slipped it up his sleeve out of sight. Knowing very well he wasn't getting anything for Christmas the next day, he decided to see what else he could get away with pilfering.

"Mom, I want to go look at the Pokemon cards." he said.

"You're not getting any." she snapped at him. "I only have enough for the essentials right now."

"Well, can I still go look at them?"

His mother glanced at the fifteen people ahead of her in the line and then let out an irritated sigh. "Fine, but I'm not buying you anything and so don't even ask. Be back before I check out."

Nodding, Justin headed for the toy department, wondering what he should take. He was getting pretty good at shoplifting, but knew he still had to be careful. If he got caught, the judge would probably throw him right back in juvie. He wandered the two aisles that made up the toy department, his gaze settling on the dolls. He didn't want a doll, but their dresses caught his attention, and he found himself staring at them, admiring the colours and designs of the outfits. Reaching out a hand, he ran his fingers along the blue silk dress of a doll, wondering if men wore this type of fabric. It felt soft and nice against his skin, and he imagined it would make a very beautiful shirt. He jerked his hand back when another customer passed by the aisle and he turned away, knowing he had to be more careful. Someone might get the wrong idea if they saw him touching dolls. He wasn't gay.

Justin grabbed a handful of Pokemon card boosters, stuffed them down his pants and then headed for the magazine wall to grab the latest issue of Mad. He found the Mad magazine, opened it, and then found his attention shifting over to the fashion magazines. On the front of every magazine were beautiful and elegant women, but it was their clothes that drew his interest. The gowns were almost hypnotic in how beautiful they were, and Justin found himself reaching for one. He opened the magazine and his gaze immediately focused on the young man standing beside one of the elegant ladies. He stared at the handsome man, and a small feeling of happiness welled within him. The man was in a fitted vest with very smart looking grey slacks, and Justin gulped. Looking one way and then the other, he shoved both magazines down his pants. Feeling like he had just broken some cardinal sin, he headed back to his mother, terrified he was going to get caught. How could he explain to his mother why he had a Vogue magazine down his pants? Shuddering at the thought, he resumed his place beside her, and then stood there nervously the whole time she paid.

When they were finally out of the store, he let out a deep breath of relief, just wanting to get home so he could hide his new treasure. His mother seemed in a better mood now that she had her holiday supply of whisky and smokes, and to his surprise, she bought him a hot chocolate on the way home.

"Merry Christmas, sweetheart." she told him, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "I know things have been hard lately, but it will get better soon. In a year you'll be old enough to work and then you can start bringing some money into the house. Things will get better then."

"Okay, mum." he told her, staring at the hot chocolate guiltily. If she only knew what he had hidden, he definitely wouldn't have been given anything other than a slap.

The hot chocolate kept his hands warm as they walked home, and the moment they arrived, Justin fled to his bedroom, closing the door after him. He took a seat on the bare and ratty mattress on the floor, and then pulled out everything he'd stolen. He hid the Vogue under his mattress and then turned his attention to the cards. After he'd added them to his collection, he laid back on his bed, unable to stop thinking about the magazine. He laid there for hours until his parents went to bed, and then he figured it was safe. Pulling the magazine out, he opened it and he felt a rush as soon as his eyes landed on the images. He stared at the beautiful people and beautiful clothes lovingly and he found himself running his fingers along the pictures with a desperate yearning.

That night he dreamt he was dressed like the men in the magazine, and he walked arm in arm with the fancy man from the Haberdashery store. Everything felt happy and right, and they went shopping together, the man showing him dozens of different expensive accessories. Justin felt like the world was finally right, but then he woke up. An instant wave of shame came over him, and he drove his fist into his pillow in a rage. He wasn't gay. He **wasn't**.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

It was now New Year's Eve and Justin found himself once again in the grocery store with his mother. He soon found himself heading for the magazine wall, and before he knew it, five magazines were shoved down his pants out of sight. He was positively gleeful as he walked home with his mother a while later, but the feeling of guilt did not subside. He adored the beautiful people in his magazine, but he knew it was wrong. Boys weren't supposed to like things like this.

He ran straight to his room when they got home to hide his treasures with his other magazine. As soon as they were safely hidden away, another wave of guilt and anger came over him. This was wrong.

He then went out and found a target for all his anger and frustration. There was a boy around his age he knew from school that had long hair, pretty features and only hung around girls. He felt certain the boy must be gay, and so when he came across him building a snowfort in the park, he didn't hesitate to attack him. He beat the kid hard, and when he was done, he stared down at the sobbing boy feeling a raw and bitter anguish in his gut. Hitting him didn't take away his forbidden thoughts and feelings, and so he kicked snow at the boy and then fled the park. His confusion and fear about what he was feeling only grew, and Justin hated himself for it.

He remained miserable until later that night when he was finally able to look through his new magazines. The feelings of happiness returned to him, and he studied every image, loving everything about them. He felt tears come to his eyes and he angrily brushed them aside, fighting the weakness, and denying how he felt. He loved everything about these magazines, but it was wrong. He shouldn't be looking at them, and he shouldn't be having dreams about dashing young men in expensive clothes. He wiped at his eyes again. He wasn't gay.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

It was just a few months later that Justin's worst fear came to be. He came home from school, ran to his room and when he opened the door, he was met with the sight of his father standing there, holding his magazines in his hands. Overwhelming terror clutched Justin's heart, and he froze in the doorway, his breathing immediately speeding up.

"What the **hell** are these?" his father demanded.

His father was a large, balding man with a beer belly, and he towered over the boy, his fury absolutely suffocating.

Justin couldn't answer, fear freezing him in place.

His father's expression was dangerous and it didn't escape Justin's notice how one of his father's hands rested on his belt.

"Are you a faggot?" his father demanded, voice like ice.

Justin mutely shook his head.

His father took a step towards him, his face contorting in rage. "You lying to me?" he demanded. "Why are you looking at these girly magazines? You're a fag, aren't you!"

"No!" Justin defended, knowing he had to save himself. "Of course I'm not! I'm no fag!"

Justin reeled back as his face was slapped.

"You're **lying**!" his father yelled. "You been wearing make-up too?"

"I'm not!" Justin yelled back, clutching his face in pain and fighting back tears.

"Then why do you have them, you little **liar**?"

Justin feigned indignant rage. "It's not **my** fault you assholes are too cheap to buy me Penthouse! I have needs and I've been using what I can get! If you don't want me to buy Vogue, then buy me a damn porno mag!"

His father blinked at him for a moment and then glanced down at the magazines. He stared at his son with suspicious eyes. "You've been buying these so you can look at the girls?"

Justin nodded emphatically. "Duh. Have you seen how gorgeous the women in these magazines are?"

His father glanced at the cover of one and then scowled. "Stop buying this shit." he ordered. "People are going to think you're some kinda queer. If you want a playboy, I'll get you one, just no more of **this**."

"Okay." Justin readily agreed.

His father gave him one last glare and then turned to leave. "If you **ever** do something like this again, I will beat every bit of the gay right out of you. You understand?"

"I'm **not** gay!" Justin yelled.

His father seemed satisfied with that response and left the room, taking the magazines with him. As soon as the door closed, a wave of grief hit Justin so hard, he had to choke back a sob. His treasures were gone and he'd never be able to get any more. Dropping down onto his mattress, he let the tears flow and he cried as hard as he could. He didn't stop crying until he had fallen asleep hours later.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Justin found himself back at the Haberdashery shop staring in the window. It had been two months since he had lost his magazines, and the empty feeling of loss still burned in his chest. He could no longer have the magazines, but he could still look at all the pretty things in the shop windows. He had been coming to the shop a lot more frequently lately, this being the only thing that brought him any measure of happiness. His strange dreams were getting more and more frequent lately, and Justin now found himself staring at the other boys at school. He noticed which ones were handsome, and which ones had nice smiles. He hated himself for it.

He stood there for over an hour at the shop window, and before he knew it, he was walking towards the door, hoping to get a closer peek at what the store had to offer. A gentleman was coming out just as he reached the door and so he slipped inside without having to worry about the bell alerting the cashier.

Justin stood at the back of the shop, hidden behind a post and simply took in the sights around him. The smell of the shop was unique and he knew it was because of the expensive fabrics and leather. Glancing around to make sure he wasn't seen, he reached out and touched one of the shirts. It was a delicate silk, and he slowly picked it up, the material feeling perfect in his hands. Raising the shirt up, he rubbed it against his cheek, and wanted it more than anything he'd ever wanted before. Knowing he could never hide something like this from his parents, he reluctantly put it back, a cold and hollow feeling settling in his chest. Rich people were allowed to dress like this, but not people from the ghetto. He'd immediately be targeted as gay.

Getting down on his hands and knees, Justin quietly crawled over to a nearby display and reached up to touch the handsome blue suit on a mannequin. Like with the silk, the material felt perfect to him, and out of curiosity, he turned over the pricetag. $30,000. Justin had never touched something so expensive in his life. He tried to picture himself in that suit, but no matter how hard he tried, he could only picture himself as the scruffy little boy he was. He was only thirteen, and none of the clothes here would fit him anyway. Peeking around the display at the cashier, he saw the man was reading a book and not paying attention.

Sneaking his way along the edge of the wall, he found his way to the socks. He reached for the brightest colour he saw which were a deep violet, and then hid as he looked at them. They weren't made of silk, but they were still incredibly soft and he clutched them, deciding right then and there he was taking them. The socks were nearly $300 and this would be the most expensive thing he'd ever shoplifted. Quietly removing his sneakers, he yanked off his stained and hole-filled socks and then slipped on the purple ones. Staring down at his feet, he felt a rush of pure joy, reveling in how soft and perfect they felt. Putting his old socks back on to hide them, he shoved his feet back in his sneakers and then chanced a peek at the cashier. The man still had no clue he was there.

He crawled his way back to the shirts and reached for one, just wanting to feel the soft silk again. Holding a beautiful red one, he held it to his face, wishing he could take it home with him. Hugging the shirt tightly as he breathed in its scent, he didn't notice the cashier's approach until it was too late.

"What do you think you're doing?!" the man bellowed out accusingly.

Dropping the shirt in surprise, Justin looked up at him with wide eyes. "Uh..."

"Are you stealing?" the man demanded, angrily storming over to him.

"N-no!" Justin defended.

"What are you doing in here?!"

"I just wanted to look!" Justin insisted. "Honest!"

The man bent and picked up the shirt. Turning it over to make sure it was undamaged, he gave the boy a furious look. "Get out of here before I call the police!"

"How do you talk like that?" Justin asked. "Your voice sounds fancy."

The man blinked at him in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Justin did his best to imitate the accent. "Get out of here before I call the police." he mimicked. "How do you do that?"

The man let out a sigh and glanced at the shirt. "What were you doing with this anyway?"

"I wanted to touch the silk." Justin told him, but he was quick to add. "But I'm no fag."

The man gave him an unreadable look. "You're the little boy who stands in front of my shop window every day."

Justin clenched his jaw. "I just like looking, but I'm not a fag and don't you dare accuse me of being one!"

"Is being gay so bad?" the man asked, kneeling down beside him.

Justin stared at him like he was crazy. "Um, yeah." he answered. "It's not normal."

"I beg to differ." the man told him. "It's completely normal to feel love."

Justin made a sour face. "Yeah, but not **that** kind of love."

"Why not?"

"Because...because." Justin fell silent for a moment. "It's wrong."

"And who told you that?"

"My father."

The man nodded in understanding. "Sometimes when people don't understand something, they hate it and they fear it. The world is slowly changing and things are starting to get better. People are starting to show more understanding, and with that I hope more compassion. There is nothing wrong with being gay, and there's nothing wrong with love. Feelings can be a scary thing, but when you stay true to yourself, that's when you finally find happiness."

Justin silently shook his head.

"Do you like the things I sell in my shop?"

Justin immediately nodded. "I think your shop is the most beautiful place I've ever been." he admitted. "The clothes are just like the ones I saw in my Vogue maga-"

He cut off abruptly, and slapped a hand to his mouth. The man didn't laugh at him however, and simply gave him a kind smile.

"Vogue is a fantastic magazine for the young fashion fanatic." he told him. "What's your favourite brand?"

"Oscar de la Renta." Justin answered without hesitation. "I love the way the dresses seem to flow on the models. It's too bad he only does women's fashion."

The shop owner seemed amused, and then thoughtful for a moment as he stared down at Justin. "I have nothing to do right now, and so I suppose it's all right for you to stay and keep me company for a while."

Justin was definitely not expecting this. "Wait...really?"

"As long as you don't damage anything, I don't see the harm."

"Oh...okay...thank you."

"My name is Leopold Garnier." the man said.

"Like the shampoo." Justin pointed out.

"Yes, a few people may have mentioned that." Leopold responded, looking tired. "And you are...?"

Justin pulled a face. "Justin, but I **hate** my name."

"Oh? What's wrong with Justin?"

"It's boring and drab like everything else in my life. I wish I had a fancy name, something really dashing!"

"Come take a seat at the counter with me and tell me about the different fashions you like." Leopold said, getting back to his feet.

Justin eagerly followed after him. He told him all about his magazines, the models he liked best, his thoughts on the different fashions, and the fact he wished he could be like all the fancy gentlemen that shopped at Leopold's store. This was the very first time he had ever voiced any of this out loud and he unloaded everything he'd been thinking about for the last couple months. Leopold listened patiently, surprised by the boy's passion, and he pulled out one of his catalogs so they could look through the designs together. Justin was ecstatic and he talked for hours about everything that caught his eye. He felt like a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and he was all smiles as he pointed to another suit that he liked.

It was with great regret that Leopold had to tell the boy the shop was getting ready to close. It was like a switch had been flipped and Justin looked crushed.

"You can come back anytime you want." Leopold informed him. "It would be nice to have a little apprentice around."

Justin was shocked. "Apprentice?!"

Leopold nodded. "If you're still interested when you're a little older, I'll hire you to work here officially. Your eye for fashion is incredibly impressive, and you truly have a talent."

Justin eagerly nodded, feeling like this was the best day of his life. "I'll come back tomorrow!" he promised. "And every day after!"

Leopold nodded, amused by the kid. As Justin headed for the door, Leopold called after him.

"Oh, Justin?"

The boy turned back around. "Yeah?"

"You can consider those socks your first month's wages."

Justin glanced down and realized the purple socks were clearly visible above his dirty white ones. His whole face turned beet red in embarrassment. "...oh."

Leopold simply laughed at his expression. "See you tomorrow, kid."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

True to his word, Justin showed up every single day after school to the shop. Leopold explained the displays to him, and explained how the ordering process worked for the shop. Justin began trying to imitate Leopold's posh accent, and the man thought it was funny and allowed him to do so. Justin became his shadow, and Leopold began teaching him all about high society. All of Leopold's customers were extremely wealthy and extremely snobby, and so he taught Justin how to act when any were around.

Every day Justin learned something new, and he always dreaded when he had to leave when the store closed. He would go back home to where everything was cluttered and filthy, and if he was lucky there might be some sort of food he could scavenge for supper. Food was beginning to become a problem for him, because Justin was in the middle of a growth spurt and he was always starving. There was never enough food for him, and more often than not, he went to bed with a growling stomach. He never talked about his home life with Leopold, but the man clearly guessed things weren't the best because after a few weeks, he began keeping snacks at the shop.

Justin found he was becoming a lot less angry, and slowly he began to consider the possibility that perhaps his secret hobby wasn't so different after all. He stopped being so gruff with Leopold and he soon found himself smiling more. After helping at the shop for nearly two months, he started looking at Leopold's wedding ring, wondering why the man never talked about his family.

"How come you haven't told me about your wife?" Justin asked one day, taking a bite out of an apple.

Leopold gave him a smile, and took a seat beside him. "I don't have a wife." he responded.

Justin furrowed his brow in confusion. "...but your ring?"

"I have a husband named David." Leopold told him, watching his reaction carefully.

Justin froze, apple halfway to his mouth.

"We have been together for twelve years." Leopold told him gently. "I love him with all my heart."

Justin simply gaped at him, having no idea what to say.

"I didn't mention David because I didn't think you were ready to hear it." Leopold explained. "Now that you know me better, I hope you see being gay does not make you a bad person. I hope you can see past the hate your father has instilled in you."

Panicking, Justin grabbed his school bag and then fled out the door without a single word. He didn't see the sad look on Leopold's face as he left.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

It had been three days since he fled the shop, and Justin was in complete turmoil. How could the man he looked up to so much be gay? Every kindness Leopold had done for him came to mind, and Justin let out a growl of frustration. He punched his pillow over and over as hard as he could, nothing making him feel any better. He was always taught that to be gay was the most shameful and disgusting thing you could be, but he couldn't see Leopold that way. The kind and gentle man listened to him and had never once judged anything he said. He was the only person who seemed to understand, and Justin felt somehow betrayed.

Justin's dreams were worse than ever, and he began having the fear that maybe there was something wrong with him. It wasn't normal to stare at other boys the way he did, and it wasn't normal to dream of beautiful clothes and romantic picnics. Justin was getting to be very handsome as he grew, and girls at school were beginning to take notice of him. They flirted clumsily with him, but Justin felt no attraction to them at all. He could certainly see which ones were beautiful, but they simply didn't give him the same feelings he got when he looked at the boys. He had no one to talk to about this, and he found himself missing Leopold. He wished Leopold was his father, and then he'd be able to tell him all his worries and concerns about things like this. He could never talk about any of this with his real father or he'd end up missing a few teeth. He was completely alone in this.

The three days he was away from the shop were the worst three days of his life. He couldn't stop thinking about everything, and it began building and building in his mind, the stress threatening to crush him. Finally he couldn't take it anymore, and he grabbed his skateboard and headed for Leopold's shop. The crushing feeling only seemed to increase as he skated along and by the time he reached the shop, it was unbearable. When he opened the door, Leopold looked up from the counter. He'd been having a discussion with another man, and Justin could see the relief in his eyes at the sight of him. That was all it took, and Justin found himself running towards the man and throwing his arms around him in a hug. He burst into tears, and Leopold stared down at him in shock.

"Justin?" he asked in concern.

Justin couldn't talk, simply crying as hard as he could. The man standing next to the counter watched with great concern, and Leopold glanced over to him.

"David, please go lock the door." he requested. He then stared down at the crying child in his arms, feeling incredibly worried. "Justin, what happened? Tell me what happened."

Justin's sobs only increased and Leopold quickly ushered him into the back room for some privacy. The boy was limp in his arms as he cried, and so Leopold took a seat on a nearby box and pulled the boy onto his lap like a child much younger than thirteen. Justin clung to him as if his life depended on it, and he released every bit of stress from the last several days into his sobs, and Leopold held him silently, simply waiting for him to calm down a bit. David stood in the doorway in concern and then reached for one of the cashmere blankets on display. He approached and wrapped it around Justin, the warm and soft fabric feeling heavy and nice, and Justin felt secure as Leopold held him patiently. When his sobs had finally diminished to the occasional sniffle, Leopold glanced down at the young boy, offering him a smile.

"Feeling a little better?" he asked him.

Justin hid his face in the blanket and didn't answer. Leopold moved the blanket aside and looked down at the boy's miserable blue eyes, his face concerned.

"Now, are you going to tell me what all this was about?" he asked gently. "Did something happen?"

Justin felt a few more tears make their way down his face, and Leopold wiped them away. Justin closed his eyes and then found himself telling Leopold about the dreams he'd been having and the fact he kept staring at the boys instead of the girls at school. He told him absolutely everything and Leopold listened patiently and didn't interrupt. When he was finally done, Justin covered his face in shame, just wanting to disappear. Leopold made him uncover his face, and he offered him an encouraging smile.

"Justin, I had a feeling we'd be having a talk like this someday." he told him. "I'm sorry this has been so hard on you."

Justin suddenly became aware that he was being held like a child and quickly scrambled off Leopold's lap in embarrassment. He still kept the blanket wrapped around his shoulders, not quite willing to let go of all comfort.

"Now, I want you to listen to me." Leopold told him, expression going serious. "There is nothing wrong with you. You are exactly how you're meant to be, and nothing will ever change that. It doesn't matter what other people say, and it doesn't matter what they think. If they can't accept you for who you are, then you need to cut them out of your life. Do **not** let other people ruin your chances at happiness."

Justin shook his head. "My parents..."

"If they can't accept you, then it is their loss." Leopold told him. "You're getting older and soon you'll be leaving home. You have the rest of your life to look forward to and wouldn't you rather live it freely?"

"I...can't." Justin said weakly.

"You **can**." Leopold said firmly. "Soon you'll be able to wear whatever you want and love whomever you want. It may seem impossible right now, but you will find the strength to fight for what you want. You don't have to remain here forever, and the whole world is out there for you to discover. You are a special little boy, and I see great things in your future. You're meant to stand apart from the crowd, not become one of the faceless masses."

Justin still felt shame and hunched his shoulders, turning his gaze to the floor. He had severely beaten kids that he had only **suspected** were gay, and here he was what he despised the most. Did he purposely target those kids because he'd always secretly known he was gay himself?

"It will take time, but things will get easier." Leopold promised him. "I know you're overwhelmed right now, but just take the time to carefully think things through."

Justin nodded, and wiped at his eyes again.

"Now, I would like you to meet David." Leopold said, smiling over at the man watching from the doorway. "This is my husband, and he's the sweetest, kindest man I've ever met."

Justin turned his eyes to David, feeling rather embarrassed the man had witnessed him crying like that. David smiled at him and held out a hand.

"Hello." he greeted. "You must be the very famous Justin that Leopold can't seem to stop talking about."

Justin gave Leopold a surprised look. "You talk about me?" he asked.

"Of course." Leopold responded. "I'm proud of my apprentice. Find me any other thirteen year old than can identify a designer just by **glancing** at an outfit."

Justin gave him a hesitant smile.

"What I think we need to do is have a very long chat over some ice cream." Leopold told him. "David and I will tell you about some of the things we went through at your age, and I think it will help you understand."

Justin gave one last sniff. "Chocolate?" he questioned.

"If you want chocolate ice cream, then that's what you shall have." Leopold announced.

Justin smiled at him tentatively, and then glanced down at the blanket he still clutched. "This is a $1200 blanket." he stated.

"I suppose it is." Leopold answered with a shrug.

"It's covered in tears and snot..."

"I suppose it is." Leopold repeated.

"Sorry..."

"You have nothing to be sorry for." Leopold assured him. "You're worth more than one stupid blanket. Now come on, let's go find that ice cream."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**.**

**June 2013**

**.**

Justin was eighteen and he stared at himself in the mirror, pleased with what he saw. The blue waistcoat fit him perfectly, and he ran his fingers across his silk shirt lovingly. Running a comb through his perfectly styled hair, he nodded at his appearance and then reached for his hat. Placing the blue fedora on his head, he deemed himself suitable for work and then headed downstairs to the shop.

He had been living with David and Leopold for a little over three years now, ever since his father found out he was dating a boy from school. He'd been beaten worse than he ever had before, and he had limped his way to the shop covered in blood and bruises. He hadn't returned home since. Leaving home had been the best thing he ever could have done, and Justin finally felt free.

Leopold and David encouraged him to work hard in school and he tested out early and had graduated at sixteen. He now worked full-time in the shop and had never been happier.

Determined to destroy any semblance of his old life, he worked hard at being just as refined as any of their customers. He used to get snide comments when he was younger, but now people actually spoke to him with respect, and valued his opinions and input on the merchandise. On Justin's insistence, Leopold had expanded their wares to include women's fashion, and business had been booming since. Justin had become well known for his eye for fashion, and he had his own clientele that refused to deal with anyone but him.

"There you are!" Leopold said the moment he entered the shop. "I swear you take longer and longer to get ready every day!"

"You can't rush perfection." Justin said in a joking tone.

Justin noted the suited man that was leaving the shop and frowned at him.

"Is that the guy from La Fantaisie?" he asked.

Leopold let out a deep sigh and nodded. "He's still trying to pressure me into selling."

"You refused of course."

Again Leopold nodded. "I'm not allowing some chain store to force me out of business. I don't care how much money they offer me, I'm never going to sell to them. The idiot even tried threatening me!"

"Good for you." Justin said. "They're just parasites trying to mooch off your success. Don't give in to them."

"Mrs. Blanchard has been calling all morning for you." Leopold informed him.

Justin let out a groan. "Oh, what does that old bag want **now**?"

"She's going to some sort of gala, and needs a dress to match the 'atmosphere' of the party."

Justin sighed. "She has no idea what she wants, does she..."

"Not at all." Leopold said with a smile. "Have fun."

Grumbling to himself, Justin reached for the newest catalog. "Does she at least have a colour in mind?"

"Sure." Leopold answered. "Here's a direct quote from her. Pink, or maybe purple, or perhaps green, no make that blue...although yellow would be nice too. I'm quite fond of orange as well...and white is just lovely."

"I'm going to find her a dress in the most putrid colour I can." Justin vowed. "Earwax yellow, or maybe lime green."

"Would you really let one of your clients walk around like that?" Leopold asked in amusement.

Justin scowled. "No." he admitted.

"You'd better call her back before-JUSTIN!"

Justin looked up just as Leopold tackled him to the ground. There was the sound of gunfire that rang through the air, and Justin looked up just in time to see a man with a gun disappear past their shattered window. Looking to Leopold in terror, he saw the other man was laying limp on top of him, blood pouring out of several wounds on his back.

"Leopold?" Justin asked hesitantly.

The man was very still and wasn't breathing.

"Leopold!"

Justin rolled the other man off him, and knelt over him checking for signs of life.

"LEOPOLD!"

He was dead.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

David was never the same after that, and he stopped going to work and stopped leaving the house. They both knew who was responsible for Leopold's murder, but it couldn't be proven. Whereas David had rolled over and admitted defeat, Justin vowed to make them pay. A fury and despair seemed to eat at him, and he knew he had to avenge his mentor no matter what. He promised David that he would find a way to ruin La Fantaisie, but the other man didn't seem to have much hope. Four months later, he found David dead in the bathroom from an overdose.

David left Justin the store and everything he and Leopold had owned in a will notarized just the day before. Although the death was marked as accidental, it was clear to Justin it had been a suicide. He was completely alone now.

A crushing sadness consumed Justin and the only thing that kept him going was the thought of getting his revenge. He would make them pay.

It became Justin's obsession and he began planning nonstop a way to permanently destroy the entire chain of La Fantaisie stores. His nineteenth birthday came and passed without notice and he still worked on his plan. He needed to discredit them, he needed to ruin their reputation to take them down, and Justin finally had an idea. It took a while to obtain everything he needed, and when he was ready, he put on the most expensive clothes the store had, and then set out to Manhattan. As expected, he was immediately greeted when he entered La Fantaisie, and he sneered at the cashier, exuding wealth and self confidence.

He was left to browse to his heart's content, and that's when he made his move. He swapped his shoulder bag for the one on the shelf, knowing that a customer would certainly spot the fake. He then swapped out every piece of valuable jewelry in the display case, all without the cashier suspecting a thing. His coat will filled with dozens of pockets, and soon, he had swapped out pretty much anything of high value. The fakes were good, and he doubted the cashier would notice the difference.

"Your merchandise is pathetic." he told the girl. "I expected better of La Fantaisie."

Realizing they were potentially losing a **very** valuable customer, the cashier was quick to reassure him. "My apologies, Sir! Our stock is actually set to arrive next week. We'll be getting in the new line of products before any of our competitors."

"Hmm." Justin responded, nose in the air.

Without another word, he left the store and headed away down the sidewalk. He had just swapped out over half a million dollars worth of merchandise. The customers were bound to notice, and they would absolutely riot. Dropping the bag off in David's car, he grabbed another identical bag and then headed for the next store. He repeated the process without any issues, and when he approached the fifth and final store, he knew his revenge was almost complete.

There was only one other customer in the store, and he glanced at the tall and beautiful Middle Eastern woman curiously. She was obviously incredibly wealthy, but he'd never seen her before which was unusual. Turning away, he felt her eyes on him, and he moved to a different part of the store. To his annoyance, her browsing seemed to take her the same way as him. Pretending to be interested in a piece of jewelry, he ignored her when she came to stand next to him.

"I don't know you." she stated.

Justin didn't answer, but his expression was clearly irritated.

"I thought I knew everyone of any importance in this city."

"Do you mind?" he said, flashing her a glare. "I'm trying to shop, and I don't feel like chatting."

She didn't seem fazed by his abrupt tone, and in fact it seemed to please her. "By all means, don't let me stop you."

She still hovered near his shoulder, and he let out a breath of pure annoyance. She didn't seem to be really looking at him, and so he decided to chance a swap to see what happened. He picked up the piece of jewelry and held it up as if looking at it and then set it back down, the swap already taking place. He continued this with each and every piece of jewelry, and since the woman didn't comment, she clearly didn't notice what he was doing. When he was done with the jewelry, he moved on to the shoes and easily swapped the ones he was wearing with the real ones. The rich woman was standing on the far side of the shop, smelling expensive perfume, and as he swapped out his shoulder bag for the genuine one, he was now almost finished. He approached the belts next and as he swapped out the most expensive ones, he was startled when the woman was suddenly hovering over his shoulder.

"It's a shame so many of these items seem to be fakes, don't you think?" she said quietly.

He glanced at her over his shoulder, taking note of her knowing smile. Her face was absolutely predatory and he scowled at her.

"I don't know what you're talking about." he snapped.

"I know what you did, and I must admit I'm very impressed."

Justin scoffed at her. "I suggest you get away from me." he warned, eyeing the nearby door. Was she going to alert the cashier? "I really don't know what you're talking about."

"I want to know who you are." she said to him. "Have a coffee with me."

"I'm not interested." Justin immediately replied, figuring she wanted a cut of the profits. "Now, how about you and your fake handbag leave me alone?"

She instantly looked affronted. "My handbag is **not** fake!" she cried. "This is a genuine Jean-Toni exclusive valued at over a million dollars!"

Justin rolled his eyes. "Then you got ripped off, because that's a fake."

She gave him an ugly look. "You haven't even looked at it, and so how would **you** know it's a fake?" she demanded.

Justin let out a deep sigh like he was being put upon and then turned his gaze to the purse. "I know enough about fashion to know that all of Jean-Toni's purses have the stitching going from the left of the zipper, and **yours** is going from the right. It. Is. A. Fake."

He expected outrage, but to his surprise, the woman smiled at him. "My, my." she commented. "You **are** impressive, my mysterious little thief. When I was informed there was an unknown thief stealing out the entire La Fantaisie chain, I just **knew** I had to investigate. This chain's reputation will be ruined within a week, and will be bankrupt almost immediately. I'm assuming that was your intent?"

Justin blinked at her, and backed up a step. "You're police?" he guessed.

The elegant woman rolled her eyes. "Of course not, you silly child."

Justin had been stealing for less than a day, and he had no idea how someone could have found out that fast. "Who are you?" he demanded.

She smiled at him, knowing she now had his full and undivided attention. "I am the Countess Cleo and I have a business proposal for you. It will make you incredibly rich. Tell me, what is your name?"

Justin had doubts that she was really a countess, but if she wanted to play the alias game then he was up for it. Thinking of Leopold and the store that meant so much to him, he came up with a name within seconds. "You can call me Dash." he replied. "Dash Haber."

This seemed to please her even more. "You already have your code name!" she exclaimed with a smile. "How wonderful. Tell me, Dash, have you ever considered using your talents for something a little...bigger?"

He raised an eyebrow, admittedly intrigued. "What did you have in mind?"

The Countess Cleo linked her arm with his and began ushering him towards the door. "Come along and we'll chat all about it. I can already tell I'm going to simply adore you!"

Having nothing to lose, he went with her and never looked back

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**TBC**

**(Gets ready to dodge the flames)**

**The next update will hopefully be within a week**


	3. Seeing Things Clearly Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of tales about the heroes and villains of Carmen Sandiego. Each chapter is a new short story.
> 
> This is a companion piece to the Team Red Family series. It's not necessary to read the main story, but it's recommended for context.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> WARNING  
WARNING  
READ THIS WARNING: There are mentions of child abuse in this chapter
> 
> It's been a while since I've added any backstories to this fic! I still have plenty more planned, just not a lot of time to get them all done. I went overboard on this chapter (as always) and so here's a nearly 13k word backstory of OtterMoose lol
> 
> If you're enjoying the story so far, please let me know your thoughts. I'm open to all suggestions and criticisms as it helps me improve the story.
> 
> Happy Reading!

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**The Intrepid Tales of Team Red**

**Chapter 3- Otterman and Moose Boy**

**Seeing Things Clearly Now**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Sven was slouching his way down the hall, feeling stressed and incredibly tired. It was only a week into first term, and already he found himself struggling with a few of the subjects. He excelled at the academic portions, but the physical training was proving to be quite difficult for him. Sven was incredibly thin without an ounce of muscle on him, and it seemed like every other student was bigger than him. He still hadn’t gotten his final growth spurt despite almost being nineteen, and was desperately hoping he wasn’t going to stay at only 5’4.

He found himself obsessing over his marks, wanting his test scores to be as perfect as possible. If he failed the physical half of his training, then his only chance at remaining with V.I.L.E would be for a member of faculty to accept him as an apprentice. It was extremely difficult to catch the eye of the head faculty, and Sven was determined to prove his value. Failure would mean being sent back to his old life and there was no way he was letting that happen.

Every free moment he had, he spent studying, and even now he was studying as he left Dr. Bellum’s classroom. He was nosedeep in an engineering textbook, trying to figure out his homework, and he was used to people moving out of his way when they saw him studying, and so he wasn’t really paying attention to anything around him. He suddenly crashed into something completely solid, and he let out a surprised cry, the object feeling as immovable as a wall. Falling backwards onto his bottom, he dropped the book, and clutched his sore nose, confused over what had happened. Seeing legs standing just in front of him, he was instantly furious.

“Watch where you’re going, you stup-” he cut off as he looked up, and up, and then up some more.

He stared at the absolutely enormous man in front of him, and quickly went quiet. The man easily stood at over six and a half feet tall, and he was almost as wide as he was tall, his body pure muscle. The man had blond hair that hung to his shoulders, and his small blue eyes stared down at him, his expression set into a frown. His face was covered in terrible scars that made his appearance even more frightening, and Sven began regretting not paying attention. He had never seen this man before, and figured this must be one of the operatives that were currently paying the academy a visit. 

“Oh...er, sorry.” Sven said. “I didn’t mean to bump into you.”

The man said nothing, and Sven offered him a sheepish smile. 

“Are you visiting the academy on business?” he asked, trying to keep his tone friendly. “I haven’t met any operatives yet.”

The man frowned down at him, and still said nothing, and Sven began getting nervous at the man’s eerily blank expression.

“Erm… no hard feelings, right?” Sven asked. 

The man’s blue eyes were fixed on him, and still he didn’t say a single word. The man suddenly reached down towards him with a massive hand, and Sven scooted backwards out of reach.

“No! It was an accident!” Sven protested. “I’m sorry!”

The man stared at him in silence for a moment and then again reached for him.

“_ Skit _ !”Sven swore in Swedish, scrambling to get away before he could be grabbed. “ _ Skit, skit, skit _!”

The man’s eyes widened, and he suddenly looked down at him intently, stepping towards him with purpose. Knowing he didn’t stand a chance in hell at winning this fight, Sven rolled to his feet and ran for it as fast as he could. He was horrified when the man took chase, and he bolted through the halls, hoping to lose him. The man barreled after him, his expression almost desperate, and Sven wished his legs were a bit longer so he could run faster.

Shoving his way through the crowded hallway, he accidentally knocked over the dorky kid with the buckteeth, but didn’t stop to see if he was alright. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the man was right on his tail and so he continued running, cursing all the times he’d skipped physical education during school. Cutting through a couple classrooms, he dove behind a cabinet, fighting to catch his breath. He heard the man crash into the room, and Sven clapped his hands over his mouth and stayed very very still. He heard him clomp through the room for a minute or so and then to his relief, he left. Sagging in relief, Sven peered out and saw the coast was clear.

Waiting until he could breathe again, he crawled out and hoped he could make it back to his dorm without being seen. Running his hands through his short hair with a sigh, he approached the door and cautiously peered out. The blond man was nowhere in sight, and so he slipped out of the classroom, and glanced up and down the hall. He was about to sneak in the direction of his dorm, when he remembered his book. His homework was tucked between the pages, and he couldn’t just leave it behind.

Letting out a curse, he slowly made his way back through the academy in the direction he’d dropped the book. Peeking around every corner as he walked, he was almost to the book when he felt a hand drop on his shoulder.

Letting out a startled yelp, he looked up into the face of Coach Brunt. Relaxing, he turned to face her as she gave him a disapproving look.

“You look nervous, snowpea.” she observed.

“N-no, everything’s fine.” he assured her.

Coach Brunt raised a skeptical brow. “Don’t forget that an operative must be able to protect themselves from all threats.”

Sven gave her a nod. “...Yes, ma’am.”

“So, who are you trying to avoid?” she asked curiously.

“Er… no one.” he replied in embarrassment. “I’m just practicing my stealth skills.”

“Mmm hmm.” she responded, clearly not believing a word of it. “Well, keep practicing your combat skills as well because you need a **lot** of work.”

Sven felt his face flush, knowing it was true. “...I’ll work hard, I promise.”

She then ruffled his hair with a smirk. “Do this academy proud, snowpea.”

“Yes, ma’am.” he responded respectfully.

He watched her walk off and then hurried around the corner to collect his book. He screeched to a halt however at the sight of the blond man kneeling down to pick up the book. The man paused, book in hand, and their eyes met. 

“_ Jävlar helvete _!” Sven swore, immediately turning to run for it.

To his dismay, the man took chase, and Sven was once again bolting through the hallways, knowing he wouldn’t be able to outrun him forever. His only chance at survival was finding another hiding spot or finding another student to protect him. Bursting into the cafeteria, he hoped the witnesses would deter the other man, but to his horror, he burst into the cafeteria and headed straight for him. Sven hopped onto a nearby chair and then stepped onto a table, and ran past the operatives eating their supper, jumping from table to table, knowing the man would have to walk all the way around. To his shock, however, the man slammed straight through the tables, knocking them and the other operatives to the floor.

Sven ran for the other exit, knowing this was really bad. What kind of psycho got **this** mad just for bumping into him?!

“Leave me alone!” Sven screamed back at him. “I’m sorry, **please** leave me alone!”

The man acted like he didn’t hear him, and Sven’s panic began to grow by the second. He was about to be murdered and there’d be nothing he could do about it. Being small and fast came in handy when it came to navigating the halls, and Sven ducked and dodged around people finally managing to put a small bit of distance between them. 

His only chance at survival was finding another student to protect him, and he knew exactly which student to choose. Charging in the direction of the dorms, he saw who he was looking for in the hall and bolted towards him.

“$100 to fight the guy behind me!” he bellowed out as he ran for The Rhino.

The Rhino was an absolutely massive boy who had chosen his codename on the first day of classes, and was a complete bully to everyone else. He’d pushed Sven around a bit, but Rhino mostly focused on the bucktoothed kid when he bullied. Rhino raised a brow in question as Sven ran for him, and he crossed his arms.

“Who’d you piss off?” he demanded.

“I don’t know, but he’s going to kill me!” Sven cried out, hiding behind him. “$100 if you make him leave me alone!”

The blond man rounded the corner and then came to a stop at the sight of Rhino. Rhino narrowed his eyes at the unfamiliar blond, knowing his status as bully was being threatened.

“$100 and you do my homework for a month.”

“Deal!” Sven responded without hesitation. “As long as you get rid of him!”

Rhino let out a snort. “Don’t worry, wimp, I’ll make sure he leaves you alone.”

“You’d better get out of here, blondie!” Rhino snarled at the blond. “The shrimp’s under **my** protection.”

The blond didn’t even glance at Rhino, his gaze entirely on Sven who was still hiding behind the taller boy. He took a step closer and looked like he was about to say something, but Rhino loudly cracked his knuckles and stepped forward.

“You gonna make me kick your ass?” Rhino demanded, giving him a hard shove in the chest. 

The blond still said nothing, but he was now eyeing Rhino a bit warily. When Rhino raised his fists, the blond narrowed his eyes but didn’t make any move to attack.

“You’d better leave me alone!” Sven yelled at him, backing up a step to give Rhino room.

The blond once again glanced at Sven, but he didn’t respond.

“Shut it, Swedish meatball.” Rhino snapped.

Sven instantly went quiet, and the blond went to step around Rhino. Rhino gave him another hard shove in the chest, and this time, he swung a fist at him. He hit the blond hard in the face who staggered back, and when he looked up, his eyes were narrowed to slits. Wiping the blood from his nose, he raised his own fists, expression quickly turning angry.

“You really want to do this?” Rhino questioned. “Alright, but it’s **your** funeral.”

As Rhino charged at the other man, Sven eagerly watched, knowing Rhino was the strongest student in their year.

“Get him, Rhino!” Sven cheered from the sidelines. “Pound him into the dirt!”

“Shut up, twerp!” Rhino snarled, swinging out at the blond man.

To Sven’s complete horror, the blond man sidestepped the attack and hit Rhino solidly in the face. Rhino fell back and hit the wall hard, and was clearly stunned. The man watched him, expression oddly patient and when Rhino turned back around, he simply waited. Rhino’s expression was murderous, and he wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand as he took a step back towards him. He swung out at him, and struck the man hard in the stomach, and then slammed an elbow into the side of his head.

“Yes!” Sven cheered out.

To Sven’s surprise and horror, the man straightened up and then attacked like he hadn’t even felt the blows. Obviously fed up with Rhino, he hit him viciously several times, and then knocked him down to the ground. Rhino let out an angry grunt of pain and then kicked the man’s legs out from under him, attacking him the second he hit the floor.

The two men violently pounded at each other, and Sven eagerly watched, glad it wasn’t **him** in that fight.

Still without uttering a single word, the blond man proceeded to swing and block, and he hit Rhino until it was obvious he had won the fight. Rhino laid on the floor covered in blood and bruises, and when it was clear the fight was over, the blond man released him and got back to his feet. When he once again turned towards Sven, the smaller man began backing away.

“_ Nej, nej, nej _!” Sven yelled, turning to flee once again.

Having nowhere else to go, he ran down the hall towards his dorm, knowing there was no escape now. The dorm hallway was a dead end, and he was now trapped. He sped into his dorm and saw there was no one there to help him, the room completely empty. Not seeing anywhere else to hide, he climbed under his bed and huddled there, hugging his knees to his chest in terror. He saw the man’s legs as he entered the dorm, and a moment later the man lowered himself down next to his bed.

Sven shrieked as his leg was suddenly grabbed and he was pulled out from under the bed. Squeezing his eyes closed, he threw his hands over his head, expecting the blows to start raining down.

[[I brought you your book.]] the man said. [[You are Swedish, yes?]]

It took the words a few seconds to register in Sven’s mind before he realized the man had just spoken in fluent Swedish. Slowly lowering his hands away from his face, he looked up at the man in confusion. The man was holding out his textbook towards him, and Sven hesitantly reached out to take it.

[[Are you Swedish?]] the man repeated, his expression bordering on desperate.

Sven blinked and then hesitantly nodded. “_ Ja _…” he replied.

The man visibly let out a deep breath of relief. [[Oh, thank god. I didn’t know what I was going to do.]] he admitted. [[I don’t speak any English.]]

Sven gave him a wary look. [[You’re not going to hit me?]] he asked.

The man gave him a goofy smile. “Nej.” he replied. [[Why would I hit you?]]

Sven simply stared at him, not trusting him. This was a trick to make him lower his guard, it **had** to be. [[Look, I didn’t mean to bump into you. I’m sorry.]] he said. [[I can’t fight you, and we both know you can grind me into hamburger if you wanted.]]

He received a frown. [[I’m not going to hurt you.]]

Sven let out a sigh. [[Look, I’m smart and so I can do your homework if you don’t beat me, alright?]]

The man’s frown deepened, and Sven immediately raised his hands to cover his face, certain he was about to be beaten. 

[[No! Please don’t! Don’t hit me!]] he begged. [[I'm sorry!]]

The man very slowly reached out and he gently lowered Sven’s hands away from his face. [[I’m not going to hurt you.]] he repeated. [[You’re just a little guy, and I’m not a bully.]]

Sven gave him a skeptical look. [[You’re...serious? You’re not going to hit me?]]

The man offered him a sad sort of smile. [[No. Why do you think I’m going to hurt you?]]

Sven simply gaped at him in disbelief.

[[Are you serious?! You were chasing me like a **lunatic** !]] Sven said in outrage. [[What was I **supposed** to think?!]]

The man scratched the back of his head sheepishly. [[Sorry, I just wanted to find out if you were Swedish…]]

Sven frowned at him. [[And you didn’t think to just **ask**?!]]

[[Er...no. I’m not very good with people.]]

Sven narrowed his eyes, still feeling like this was some sort of trick. The man had just pummeled the strongest student in the academy to get to him, and this was **not** normal behaviour. 

[[Alright…]] he responded warily. [[And what do you want from me?]]

The man must have realized Sven was frightened of him, because he sat down cross-legged to seem less threatening. [[I just want to talk.]] he told him.

Sven stared at him, and then realized something. [[Wait...if you don’t speak English, how did you graduate the academy? All the classes are in English.]]

The man seemed confused at this. [[I **haven’t** graduated. This is my first day of training.]]

[[What?!]] Looking the man up and down, Sven was skeptical. [[How old are you?]] he demanded.

[[Eighteen.]] the man replied. [[I’m a week late starting because they wouldn’t let me join until I turned eighteen. Today’s my birthday.]]

[[You’re only **eighteen**?!]] Sven squawked, staring at the massive man in front of him. [[You look thirty!]]

[[My name is Henrik.]] the man greeted, holding out a bruised and bloody hand.

Sven hesitantly shook his hand, still a little worried he was going to be smacked. “Sven.” he replied.

Henrik’s grip was strong, but it was obvious he was trying to be gentle, and when he released his hand, he left a smear of blood behind. Sven grimaced and wondered how he could politely escape this whole interaction. He didn’t trust Henrik, and knew he needed to somehow get away from him.

[[Classes are going to be really hard until I learn English…]] Henrik said, clearly worried.

Sven gave him a suspicious glance. [[So you wanted me to do your homework for you?]] he demanded.

Henrik shook his head. “_ Nej. _”

Sven frowned further. [[Then what do you want from me?]] he asked. [[There has to be **something** you want!]]

[[No, not really.]] Henrik replied. [[Until I learn English, you’re the only person I can talk to.]]

[[Henrik, how do you not know English?]] he asked curiously. [[It’s taught in schools right from 1st grade! Most kids are fluent by the time they’re ten!]]

Henrik suddenly seemed a bit embarrassed. [[Erm...I was homeschooled.]] he admitted hesitantly. [[I have a few...learning disabilities.]]

Sven squinted at him, wondering how someone who didn’t speak a word of English managed to get enrolled. If Henrik truly wasn’t going to hurt him, then he had no interest in continuing this interaction.

[[Well, Henrik, it’s been really nice talking to you, but it’s almost curfew and you should be getting to your dorm…]]

Henrik grinned at him brightly. [[This **is** my dorm!]] he announced. [[See? That’s my bed right there!]]

To Sven’s complete dismay, he saw Henrik’s bed was right beside his own. He’d been wondering about the empty bed all week, and now it looked like he had his answer.

[[...great.]]

[[It will be nice having someone to hang around with at the academy!]] Henrik announced, clapping Sven on the shoulder. [[We can be friends!]]

Sven grimaced. He’d never been the most social person in the world, and the mere thought of being forced to be the man’s friend made him feel anxious and stressed. He was definitely not suicidal enough to say so however.

[[I...need to study.]] Sven told him, slowly taking a seat on his bed. [[Homework and all that…I’m sure you understand.]]

Henrik gave him a nod and grinned brightly. [[Great, I’ll go grab my books and we can study together!]]

Sven’s expression dropped. [[...wonderful.]]

As Henrik hurried over to his locker to collect his books, Sven rubbed his forehead, having no idea what to do about this situation. He preferred to be alone, and he had a feeling Henrik would distract him from his studies. The man could turn him into mulch if he wanted to, and so Sven knew he would have to be **very** careful in how he handled this. He had to make it clear he didn’t want to be friends without offending Henrik. He’d have to put some thought into this.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**One Month Later...**

[[Sven! Sven!]] Henrik called, running down the hallway after him. [[Where are you going?]]

Sven let out a deep sigh and clutched his books to his chest, just wanting to escape for a while.

[[Sven?]]

Henrik had been following after him for an entire month now, and it was clear the huge man didn’t know how to take a hint. He tried to hint that he liked to be alone, he tried very politely saying so, and he’d even gotten annoyed enough to tell him to go away, but nothing worked. Henrik followed him around like an enormous puppy, and Sven knew there wasn’t really anything he could do about it.

The only upside was that Henrik’s presence seemed to dissuade bullies from approaching him, and Sven hadn’t been pushed around in weeks. Even Rhino now kept his distance from them, and Sven had to admit it was nice being left alone. Henrik was constantly glued to his side, and Sven had been working with him every night to teach him English in the hopes he’d make new friends and leave him alone. For some reason this only seemed to further cement their friendship in Henrik’s eyes.

Sven scowled down at the floor as he walked. He refused to admit the kind giant who followed after him was anything but a bother. Sven was never lonely anymore, and found himself no longer worrying about the bigger students hurting him. His anxiety was starting to improve, and he began doing better in his classes. Henrik was happy to work with him to help him improve his fighting skills, and Sven was finally receiving passing marks in all of his classes. Henrik however, was struggling with all of his written assignments, and more often than not, Sven ended up helping him with them. Sven was always complaining and grumbling about wasting his time, but the way Henrik smiled at him when he helped him, made him feel a confusing assortment of emotions.

[[Sven!]] Henrik called again.

“Gå bort!” Sven hissed, heading for the front doors.

Henrik’s long legs easily kept up with his furious pace. [[Something’s wrong.]] he said, his face twisted in worry. [[Are you alright, Sven?]]

“Leave me alone!” Sven snarled in English.

Henrik paused for a moment, clearly trying to figure out what he said. “Er...no.” he finally replied. [[Tell me what’s wrong so I can help!]]

[[Nothing’s wrong!]] Sven answered. [[I just want to be left alone. Go away, Henrik, **please** just go away.]]

Henrik looked a bit hurt, but he gave a slow nod. [[Oh...okay then...I guess I’ll see you later then.]]

Henrik stopped walking and watched as Sven stormed away across the grounds, heading towards the cliffs. Sven always liked to sit at the cliffs when he was upset and Henrik knew something was wrong, but for the life of him he didn’t know what it was. They’d spent the entire day together and nothing unusual took place, and so Henrik felt helpless. Letting out a deep sigh, he turned to head back inside. Having nowhere else to go, he trudged his way back to his dorm, hoping Sven would be in a better mood when he returned.

The dorm was almost empty when he entered, only one other boy in the room. The boy was seated on his bed and was eating a cupcake, while flipping through a schoolbook. He glanced up at Henrik as he entered, and Henrik saw the wary look the boy shot him. Henrik knew the boy was being horribly bullied, but he wasn’t really confident enough in his English to try to help. The boy was short, barely taller than Sven and had the worst buckteeth he’d ever seen. Henrik’s own teeth were bucked and so he felt the boy’s pain, having a feeling he was being targeted because of them. 

Henrik plunked himself down on his bed with a deep sigh, wishing he knew what was bothering his best friend. He loved hanging out with Sven, and he thought the smaller boy was the smartest person he’d ever met. Although Sven was grouchy, Henrik could see the kindness within him, and it came out when Sven helped him with his homework and his English. Sven was always so defensive and anxious, but when he smiled, it was like a ray of sunshine to Henrik. He wanted to keep that smile on Sven’s face, but it was difficult when the other boy was so set on being defensive.

Henrik looked up when the small buck-toothed boy took a seat next to him on the bed.

“You okay, Henrik?” he asked.

Henrik struggled to find the words. “Yes, I am good, Neal.”

The boy seemed surprised that he knew his name. “You don’t look fine.” he responded. “Cupcake?”

Henrik accepted the offered cupcake and gave him a questioning look.

“It’s my birthday today.” Neal told him. “I bribed the kitchen staff to make me cupcakes.”

Henrik didn’t understand most of that, but he caught enough words to grasp what he meant.

“Happy Birthday, Neal.” he responded.

Neal took a bite of his second cupcake, and gave him a thoughtful look. “So, what’s bothering you? Is it Sven?”

Henrik gave him a shocked look, surprised at how perceptive he was. “How did you know?”

Neal gave a laugh. “You two are always together.” he responded. “Where is Sven?”

Henrik let out a sigh. “I do not know.” he answered. “Sven is...not good today. I do not know why.”

Neal cocked his head. “Well, it’s his birthday today and so maybe he’s upset over that for some reason?”

Henrik’s head snapped around to stare down at the boy, certain he must have misunderstood. “Today is Sven’s birthday?” he asked uncertainly.

Neal nodded, finishing his cupcake without a word.

“How...how do you know?”

“He has the same birthday as me.” Neal answered. “That’s not something I’d forget.”

Henrik looked alarmed. “Oh, no! I must do something!” he exclaimed in alarm.

“I’ll share my cupcakes if you want.” Neal offered, holding out the box of remaining cupcakes.

Henrik gave the boy a wide smile. He had never really given Neal much thought before, but the kind gesture made him view him in a different light.

“Thank you, Neal.” he said clapping the boy on the back hard enough to almost knock him off the bed.

“...ow.” Neal commented with a wince.

“We must have a birthday...a birthday...um…”

“A birthday party?” Neal guessed.

“Yes!” Henrik said excitedly. “For you both!”

Neal seemed excited at the idea of a party. “Can I help?” he asked.

Henrik nodded. “You make the…” he waved his hand around the room and Neal squinted at him.

“Decorations?” Neal guessed.

“Yes!” Henrik said happily. “You do the decor...docer...you do the thing and I will get food.”

Neal nodded. “I’m really good in Shadowsan’s class, and so I can probably make streamers or something pretty fast.”

Henrik simply nodded. “Good, good. I will be back.”

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Sven had been sitting at the cliffs for nearly two hours simply staring out across the ocean. His birthday had nothing but bad memories attached to it, and it never failed to put him in a foul mood. His childhood had been terrible, and his parents had hated him with an intensity he’d never quite understood. 

Sven suspected he was the result of infidelity, but it was never actually said to him and so he wasn’t sure. He was the only brunette in a sea of blondes within his family, and his looks had only further isolated him from the others. His siblings had a relatively happy and normal childhood, but Sven had to watch their happiness like an outsider. He didn’t get to participate in Christmas or birthdays or anything else that was family oriented. He would sit there to the side as his brothers and sisters opened their Christmas gifts, and he would watch their birthday parties, knowing his own birthday was never acknowledged. His parents fed him, and they clothed him, but that was the extent of their care for him. 

He had tried everything he could to make them love him, but they’d thrown his efforts right back in his face. He had once impulsively given his father a hug and the man had reacted by beating him so badly he’d had to miss school for a week. They were always finding excuses to hit him, and Sven became a nervous wreck, never knowing when he was going to receive the next slap or beating. Even his siblings had been taught to hate him, and that was really devastating to him. They quickly learned to blame him for everything they did, and their parents would punish him severely in their place. There had been absolutely no one he could depend on, and he had suffered in silence until the day he left.

He had packed his bags, and as he left he’d stared at his family, a deep pain within him that made him want to scream and made him want to cry. He had said his goodbyes and they didn’t say a single word. His father had pressed a wad of money into his hand and then closed the door in his face, clearly not caring what happened to him. He tried to tell himself that he didn’t care, but he knew that wasn’t true.

Having no alternatives, Sven began stealing to survive, and he soon turned his attention to bigger and bigger prospects. When he was seventeen, he successfully committed a bank robbery by disabling all the security within, and he walked away with nearly a million Krona. He felt like things were finally looking up for him, and thought he had gotten away with it.  
  
Two days later, V.I.L.E located him and offered him a place within the academy. Sven saw this as a way to finally escape the terrible life he’d been dealt and accepted without hesitation. He would have value within V.I.L.E, and he’d finally have a place he belonged. He’d perfect his skills, and he’d be one of the greatest thieves the world had ever seen.

Now that Sven was at the academy, he was determined to prove himself. He refused to be tossed aside, and knew that he would do **anything** to remain within V.I.L.E.

His thoughts turned to Henrik, and he frowned. The other man was incredibly nice to him, and actually wanted to be his friend, but Sven wasn’t sure how he felt about that. People couldn’t be trusted, and he was still convinced the other man must have some sort of hidden agenda. He figured Henrik was using him to learn English and to be tutored, and this Sven could understand perfectly. He just wished Henrik would be forthright with him instead of pretending to like him. He refused to be treated like an idiot, and despite Henrik’s assurances he liked him, Sven didn’t trust him.

[[Sven!]] yelled an annoyingly familiar voice.

Sven let out a deep sigh. So much for his alone time…

He heard Henrik scramble up the rocks behind him, and a moment later the enormous man took a seat beside him.

[[Hi, Sven!]] Henrik greeted. [[How are you feeling?]]

Sven glared up at him and said nothing.

[[Oh, you’re still grumpy.]] Henrik commented.

[[Is there anything you want, or are you just here to bother me?]] Sven demanded.

Henrik then grinned at him widely. [[Come with me!]] he ordered, taking Sven by the hand.

Before he could protest, Henrik slipped down off the rocks and pulled him down with him. Sven then found himself being tugged across campus, and he found he couldn’t even form a protest, his attention entirely on their joined hands. Henrik’s grip was gentle but yet felt completely unbreakable, and Sven felt his face redden, realizing what this must look like to the other students.

[[Henrik, stop!]] he ordered, trying to pull away. [[Let me go!]]

[[Come on, Sven!]] Henrik answered, not slowing his pace at all.

Sven had no choice but to allow the enormous man to tug him through the academy, and sure enough, he saw the other students giving them a few odd looks as they passed by.

Muttering a few curses under his breath, he hoped the faculty wouldn’t hear about them holding hands. Relationships were strictly forbidden, and he didn’t even want to think about what the consequences would be for breaking the rules. Detention? Expulsion? Death? Whatever it was, it wasn’t worth it.

To Sven’s surprise, he was tugged to their dorms, and he wondered what was so urgent. Henrik threw open the door, and Sven’s eyes widened at what he saw. Streamers, balloons, and birthday decorations were everywhere within the dorm, and their four other dormmates were smiling at him as he entered.

“Happy Birthday!” they chorused. 

“Grattis på födelsedagen!” Henrik said happily.

Sven glanced all around, his eyes falling on the blue-frosted cupcakes with candles and snacks, and then looked up at Henrik with wide eyes.

“This...this is for **me**?” he asked in English.

“_ Ja. _” Henrik replied, his smile growing wider. [[For you and Neal. You both share a birthday.]]

Sven glanced over at the short and geeky Neal, and didn’t know what to say.

“Where did you guys find balloons on the island?” he asked, staring at the dozens of white balloons around the room.

Neal suddenly looked a bit sheepish. “Er...they’re not balloons.” he said in a quiet voice.

“Not balloons?” Sven repeated in confusion. “Then what **are** th...ew.”

Sven now stared at the balloons in a whole new light and he gave Neal a disgusted look. He didn’t know much about the other boy other than the fact he was painfully shy and bullied by Rhino and his goons. The boy’s anxieties and nervousness reminded him of himself, and he narrowed his eyes at him. This boy was a victim, and Sven knew it could have easily been him in his place if it wasn’t for Henrik.

“Happy Birthday.” Sven told Neal reluctantly.

“You too.” Neal responded. "Are you nineteen as well?"

Sven gave a distracted nod, and felt a raw feeling consume him as he stared at the decorations. He looked up at Henrik who was looking very pleased with himself.

[[Open your present!]] 

Sven stared at him with wide eyes. [[Present?]] he repeated in disbelief. [[You got me a birthday present?]]

“_ Ja. _” Henrik replied, thrusting a lumpy and sloppily wrapped gift into his arms.

Sven stared at the gift for a long moment, and then carefully began ripping aside the paper. He held up a pair of socks and a chocolate bar and Henrik gave him an apologetic look.

[[Sorry it’s such a bad gift, but I didn’t have a lot of time to look for something better.]]

[[It’s perfect.]] Sven replied, meaning it completely. [[I love chocolate. Thank you.]]

Henrik looked unbelievably happy at that and he threw an arm around the smaller man and ushered him towards the food. 

[[Time to party!]] Henrik crowed.

[[Time to party.]] Sven said reluctantly.

[[Time to party!]] Neal repeated, getting the Swedish accent down pretty well.

Sven rolled his eyes, knowing the other boy likely had no idea what he’d just said. As he reached for one of the cupcakes, he smiled up at Henrik who seemed to swell with happiness. Sven then got to experience his first ever birthday party, and he now had a happy memory associated with his birthday.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

It was just a couple weeks before the end of first term and a tragedy had struck the academy. The skinny boy Neal had somehow gotten himself wedged inside a ventilation shaft, and the faculty had informed them the boy was unfortunately going to die. There was no way to rescue him, and no one was thin enough to go after him. Sven was small, but he was chunkier than Neal and there was no way he could go after him. 

Henrik was completely devastated, since he and Neal had become friendly acquaintances over the past month. Sven didn’t care much for his timid personality, but he certainly never wanted him to get hurt. They had been forced to listen to Neal’s screams and cries for days as the boy slowly died, and it was absolutely terrible. When he finally went silent, Henrik had been miserable and angry, and the mood in their dorm was pretty somber. They stared at Neal’s empty bed, and his half-eaten package of licorice, and felt a sense of loss for their fallen roommate.

[[What are they going to do with Neal?]] Henrik asked, staring at the vent in their room.

Sven frowned. [[I heard Coach Brunt say the cleaners were going to seal the vents where Neal is so that his body wouldn’t smell up the academy.]]

Henrik clenched his fists. [[He didn’t deserve to die.]]

Sven looked up at him silently for a moment, and reached out to take Henrik’s hand. Henrik seemed surprised at first, but then he gave the hand a gentle squeeze, glad for the comfort offered.

[[I’m sorry, Henrik.]] Sven said. [[I know that you liked him.]]

Henrik said nothing, and a moment later, he pulled Sven into an unexpected hug. Sven immediately began to struggle in a panic, but Henrik didn’t let go.

[[Please don’t ever do something like that.]] Henrik begged. [[Please don’t die, I couldn’t bear it. You’re my best friend, and I’d be lost without you.]]

Sven went limp in his hold, not quite sure what to say to that. [[I promise.]] he finally said. [[You’re my friend and I won’t leave you behind.]]

Henrik smiled down at him sadly, this being the first time Sven admitted they were friends.

On the fourth day since Neal crawled in the vent, they received word that Neal had crawled out of the vents alive. Everyone ran to the hallway and they were met with the sight of a mostly naked greased up Neal beating Rhino into the ground with absolute ferocity. His eyes had a wild and fierce look to them that they’d never seen before, and it took Coach Brunt to stop the fight. To everyone’s complete shock, Neal turned on Brunt in an instant, and knocked her to the ground. He then took off running without a word to anyone. 

Coach Brunt got back to her feet, her expression absolutely furious, and she turned her gaze to the watching students.

“Get to class!” she ordered angrily.

Not one student dared argue, and they dispersed as quickly as they could. Henrik had smiled down at Sven, the relief evident in his eyes. Sven was more hesitant however.

[[He struck a teacher, Henrik… there’s no way they’re going to allow him to get away with that.]]

Henrik frowned. [[He was just confused.]] he insisted. [[He was in the vents too long.]]

Sven gave him a nod, but had a feeling the boy was going to be expelled at the very least for daring such a thing. That night when they returned to their dorm, Neal was seated on his bed and was all smiles as he chatted with the others. When he saw them come in, his eyes lit up, and he leapt up and headed straight for Henrik, large and confident grin in place.

“Heya, Henrik.” he greeted. “I’m back from my vacation!”

Henrik’s brows furrowed in confusion, not quite sure he understood. “Vacation?” he repeated.

“Sure, I was in absolute paradise.” Neal replied with a grin.

Henrik scratched at his head, clearly puzzled. “But...but...I thought you were trapped in the vents?”

Neal shot him a teasing look, and Sven had never seen the other boy act like this. Neal had always been incredibly shy and quiet, but the boy that stood in front of them now was the embodiment of cockiness and confidence. His every word and every movement was completely unlike his old self, and Sven simply stared at him, having no idea what to think. The boy certainly **looked** like Neal, but his personality was completely different. What happened to him inside that vent? Was this the result of some sort of trauma or brain damage?

Neal tossed an arm around Sven’s shoulders. “So, what’d I miss, love? You two finally dating yet?”

Sven tried to shake him off, but Neal held on. “Excuse me?” Sven snapped. “What are you talking about?”

Neal laughed, a sound they’d never heard before. “Oh, **please**.” he commented. “You two have been flirting since term began. Just kiss and get it over with!”

“Neal, I don’t know what sort of stroke you’ve had, but we are **not**-”

Sven was then taken completely off-guard when Henrik leaned down and lightly kissed him on the cheek. Sven turned scarlet and he was instantly speechless, staring up at Henrik with wide eyes.

“It’s okay, Sven.” Henrik assured him in English. “Neal’s a good guy and he won’t tell anyone we’re dating. None of these guys will.”

“Yeah, man.” one of the others piped up. “We’ve known you guys were dating since September. We’re not going to tattle on you.”

Sven continued staring at Henrik, having no idea what to say. They were dating?! When exactly had **this** occurred?! Wasn’t this the sort of thing that should have been discussed with him first?! How was it even possible to be in a relationship without even realizing it?!

Sven shook his head. He had no interest in dating anyone, and knew he had to break this off immediately before it got them into trouble.

“We’re not dating.”

Neal rolled his eyes. “Love, no one cares if you’re gay. This is V.I.L.E, pretty much **everyone** is gay here.”

Sven shoved Neal away impatiently. “I’m not embarrassed about being gay.” he snapped. “I’m just not willing to jeopardize my place within this academy over such a stupid thing.”

Everyone in the room rolled their eyes at him.

“Okay, Sven, we’re not dating.” Henrik replied, reaching out and taking his hand. “We’ll keep things as best friends.”

“Best friends don’t normally hold hands.” Sven pointed out.

“Says who?” Neal demanded, taking his other hand. “I can hold anyone’s hand I want.”

Sven pulled his hand away from him. “Don’t touch me, you smell like bacon grease, you weirdo.”

Neal sniffed his arm and then laughed. “So I do.” he acknowledged.

Neal then gave a stretch and to Sven’s complete horror, Neal’s arms bent at unnatural angles.

“Oh my god! What happened to you in that vent?!” Sven demanded. “Are they disposing of nuclear waste through there or something?!”

Neal paused his stretching, and then got an absolutely trollish expression on his face. “No, nothing like that, love. I was just possessed by a demon.”

Sven let out a sigh which quickly turned to a yelp of surprise when Neal suddenly bent over backwards and contorted into a completely unnatural shape. It looked like his spine should have snapped in several places, and to his horror, Neal began slowly edging towards him like some sort of nightmare creature.

“Oh my god!” Sven shrieked, flailing at Neal in horror. “Get away from me!”

“Okay Neal, that’s enough.” Henrik scolded with a frown. “You’re scaring Sven.”

Neal collapsed onto the floor in a fit of laughter, and he smiled up at Sven in good nature. “Sorry, love, couldn’t resist. You should have seen your face!”

Sven scowled down at Neal, deciding he didn’t like this new personality. The shy and quiet Neal was much better than whatever **this** was. Sven’s hand was still held firmly in Henrik’s and he made no move to let go. They weren’t dating, they were just friends. Friends that sometimes held hands.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Sven stood proudly in the hallway staring at the green checkmark next to his picture. He had graduated along with most of his peers, and he didn’t need to rely on an apprenticeship to stay. He saw Henrik smiling at his own green checkmark, and Sven ran for him, so happy about graduating that he threw his arms around the other man in a tight hug.

“We did it!” Sven laughed. “We actually did it!”

Henrik was surprised by the hug, but he quickly returned it and then placed an affectionate arm around his partner.

“My name is now Otterman.” Sven said with a smile.

“And I am Moose Boy.” Henrik replied.

Otterman frowned at him. “...I think you mean **man** , don’t you? Moose **Man**?”

Moose Boy shook his head. “Nope.”

Otterman cringed a bit, but he didn’t want to ruin his partner’s excitement and so he didn’t say anything. Neal was suddenly behind them throwing his arms around them both.

“Well, guys, we made it! Neal the Eel is actually an operative!”

“Go away, Neal.” Otterman snapped, shoving him away. “Go bother someone else.”

Neal smiled down at him. “You’re just jealous that I’m taller than you now.” he retorted.

Otterman flushed, knowing it was true. Neal now towered over him, having gained eight inches of height during the last six months. Otterman had gained four inches of height throughout the year and was now at an average 5’8, whereas Neal now stood at 6’1. Moose Boy hadn’t grown at all, but was still the tallest among them.

“So, we’re supposed to go to our congratulations meeting with the faculty.” Neal told them. “I’ll walk there with you if you like?”

Otterman gave him a dirty look, but Moose Boy quickly nodded with a large and friendly grin on his face.

“Sure, Neal.”

Otterman sighed and didn’t comment, not understanding why Moose Boy seemed to like Neal so much. Otterman found him creepy and annoying, and would have rather avoided him, but he wasn’t going to say anything. As they walked towards the faculty lounge, Otterman held Moose Boy’s hand the whole way there.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Otterman and Moose Boy had been operatives for almost four years and they had quickly proven to be incredibly talented at what they did. They worked together perfectly, and they had a near perfect success rate when it came to missions. They were quickly gaining recognition within V.I.L.E and they were chosen for the best jobs. They were barely given any time off and honestly that’s the way they both preferred it. They loved traveling and they loved the excitement of the heists they’d pull.

Although Moose Boy wasn’t the swiftest operative, he was incredibly strong and he trusted Otterman completely and always followed orders. Otterman was clever, and he could figure out a whole new plan on the spot if the situation changed for whatever reason. 

They were reliable, and this was why Dr. Bellum chose them for her secret mission to take down a diamond vault in Botswana. They’d never targeted a diamond vault before and Otterman was eager to give the mission everything he had. They were provided with a tiny device Dr. Bellum invented that was designed to take out all cameras and technology within a 100 meter radius. All that they had to do was get the device inside the vault, press the button and one minute later, a powerful electrical pulse would explode outwards destroying any and all electronics.

The mission had seemed easy enough and Otterman and Moose Boy had accepted the mission and were flown to Botswana. They had two hours to get in and out with the diamonds and then meet the plane at a nearby airstrip.

Otterman and Moose Boy crouched behind some bushes and they watched the armed guard in front of them with a frown. This was almost too easy, and they felt like something was wrong. Why was there only one guard?

[[Hmm...I don’t like this.]] Otterman stated.

Moose Boy scratched at his chin, watching the guard pace back and forth with an uneasy look. [[Do we still go for it?]]

Otterman scanned the whole area with his eyes and saw nothing amiss. It didn’t seem to be an ambush, and there didn’t seem to be anything out of place. According to his research there should have been at least three guards at every entrance, but one single guard was taking care of the entire front of the building all by himself.

[[We’ll still have to go for it.]] Otterman said hesitantly. [[Are you ready?]]

Moose Boy smiled down at him, and then bent down to give him a kiss. [[Of course I am, Sven.]]

Otterman accepted the kiss with a roll of his eyes, and then turned his attention back to the building in front of them. Pulling out a gas pellet, he eyed the guard and then judged the distance before throwing it as hard as he could towards him. As always, Otterman’s aim was perfect, and the tiny pellet landed directly behind the guard. It released a cloud of smoke and by the time the guard realized something was happening, he collapsed to the ground unconscious.

Otterman gave one last cautious glance around and then motioned for Moose Boy to follow. They ran for the guard, and stole his keycard, and then swiped open the door, prepared to fight the guards on the other side. To their surprise, there was no one there, and the hallway was completely empty.

[[I don’t like this…]] Otterman said for a second time. [[I think Dr. Bellum may not have been completely truthful with us about this mission…]]

Moose Boy placed a hand on his shoulder. [[Let’s get out of here.]] he urged. [[We can take the failure.]]

Otterman furrowed his brow. [[I want to know what she’s hiding from us.]] he replied. [[We’ll be fine.]]

Moose Boy looked uncertain, but trusted his partner and gave a hesitant nod. The whole compound seemed to be completely empty, and they navigated hallway after hallway, feeling incredibly wary.

“The room we’re supposed to set off the device in is just ahead.” Otterman informed him. “I haven’t seen any cameras, have you?”

Moose Boy shook his head silently.

They came to a door, and Otterman gave another glance around before swiping the keycard and opening the door. They were met with the sight of a bedroom and they both froze in surprise. A middle-aged man looked up from the book he was reading and instantly stood to his feet.

“Who are you?” he demanded, his voice tinged with a thick Russian accent.

Otterman glanced around the room and saw no signs of diamonds or even technology for that matter. The room was empty besides a few pieces of furniture. 

Otterman reached into his pocket and pulled out the device. He frowned down at it and wasn’t quite sure what use it was going to be.

“Who are you?” the man demanded again, this time more aggressively. “How did you get in here?!”

Otterman exchanged a look with Moose Boy, who then gazed around the room in confusion.

“Who are **you**?” Moose Boy responded to the man.

The man narrowed his eyes on them, looking them up and down. “Are you new guards?” he demanded. “Why do you not know who I am?”

Otterman once again glanced down at the device in his hand, his eyes lingering on the switch. There was no way he was turning this thing on.

“What’s that?” the man demanded.

Otterman didn’t answer, instead staring at the man, having a feeling this was a hit job and **not** a robbery.

“Why does V.I.L.E want you dead?” Otterman demanded.

The man’s expression changed to complete surprise. “V.I.L.E?” he repeated. “They’re my corporation's partner. Why would they want me dead? I’m not going to ask again, who are you? Are you V.I.L.E?”

Otterman frowned. “Partners with V.I.L.E?” he questioned. “V.I.L.E doesn’t **have** any partners. They’re a solo organization that branches into several fields, but there are no partners.”

The man let out a snort. “V.I.L.E sent you here to protect me and you don’t even know who I am? This is pathetic, and I’ll be giving them a piece of my mind.”

“Uhhh...I don’t think we’re here to protect you.” Moose Boy commented, looking over at Otterman for verification.

“What is your name?” Otterman demanded. “You must be someone important to be hidden away like this.”

The man let out a snort. “You two really **are** clueless, aren’t you?”

Otterman held up the device. “What does this do, and why was I told to bring this here?”

The man stared at the device with a frown. “Is that Bellum’s?”

Otterman nodded.

To Otterman’s surprise, the man snatched the device out of his hand so fast he didn’t even have time to react. The man turned it over in his hand and then gave a nod of approval.

“It’s a communication device that cannot be traced.” he informed them. “Nice.”

Otterman was skeptical. “Are you sure?”

“Look, kid, V.I.L.E is **not** going to kill me. I’m the eldest Volkov son and I single-handedly determine how much we cooperate with V.I.L.E. They’re the ones keeping me in this safehouse until the situation up North has been taken care of. Bellum is going to keep me informed, hence the communication device.”

Otterman didn’t like the sound of this, knowing that there had to be a reason Dr. Bellum lied to them. If this Volkov corporation was so important, then why hadn’t he heard of them before? Wouldn’t this be something they’d teach them at the academy? They’d left their communicator on the plane because the device was supposed to destroy all technology and so they had no way to verify any of this information.

“I don’t think you should turn that on until we clear this matter up...” Otterman suggested. “Is there a phone here?”

“Look, boy, you’ve done your job and so just run along now.” the man ordered. “The adults have business now.”

Otterman held out his hand. “Please give me the device until I confirm my orders.”

The man scoffed and his reaction was to flip the device on. A light on top of the device blinked and then suddenly there was a high-pitched noise. Otterman stared at in horror as he froze in fear, and then next thing he knew, Moose Boy was tackling him to the ground, just as there was a powerful burst of red lights in every direction. One second he saw the room filled with thousands of crisscrossing red lines and the next, his vision went black and there was absolute agony in his eyes.

Otterman started screaming and he clapped his hands to his eyes as Moose Boy shielded him with his body. The pain was the worst he’d ever felt, and Otterman couldn’t stop screaming, feeling blood underneath his fingers. He then felt Moose Boy pulling him into his arms, and Otterman simply continued screaming.

[[Sven!]] Moose Boy cried out. [[Your eyes!]]

Otterman was shaking, and Moose Boy tried to pry his hands away from his face.

[[Let me see.]] he ordered. [[Come on, Sven, let me see!]]

Otterman sobbed heavily, but he removed his hands from his eyes, and he heard Moose Boy suck in a sharp breath. Suddenly he felt himself picked up, and then Moose Boy was running with him in his arms.

[[Henrik?!]] Otterman choked out around his sobs.

[[Gotta get you to a doctor!]] Moose Boy said, his voice in a complete panic. [[Keep your eyes closed! **Don’t** open your eyes!]]

Otterman once again raised a hand to his eyes. [[Henrik, I’m blind!]] he sobbed. [[My eyes…]]

[[Don’t worry, Sven, I’m going to find a doctor, and they’ll be able to help you!]]

Otterman could feel the blood pouring from his eyes and was absolutely terrified. [[Henrik...my eyes...are they gone?]]

Henrik didn’t answer him.

[[Henrik!]] Otterman cried, reaching a hand up towards the other man’s face. [[Tell me! Are my eyes **gone**?]]

[[Save your strength.]] Moose Boy ordered, and Otterman heard the sound of a metal door opening. 

Otterman felt the afternoon sun as they stepped outside, and he began shaking and shaking, feeling like he was going to pass out. He had to know, and so he opened his eyes a crack and saw nothing at all. Closing them again, he sobbed even harder, knowing he’d been blinded. His life was over.  
  
Moose Boy ran through the trees seemingly tirelessly, and Otterman fell silent, his entire body feeling numb. 

[[We’re almost to the airfield.]] Moose Boy told him, sounding completely out of breath. [[Just a while longer and we’ll get you to a doctor.]]

Otterman said nothing, feeling like he was trapped in a horrible nightmare. 

[[I see the plane.]] Moose Boy told him. [[The cleaners are there! Why are the cleaners there?!]]

Otterman now knew they were never meant to survive this mission. They had been chosen for a suicide mission. Dr. Bellum had chosen to use good operatives to make sure the job got done without any issues. V.I.L.E never expected them to make it out of this alive, which meant their lives were still in danger.

[[Henrik, we can’t tell them anything.]] Otterman said, struggling to keep his voice steady. [[Pretend you don’t know anything at all and leave the talking to me.”

Moose Boy looked down at him worriedly, but trusted Otterman completely. [[Okay, Sven.]] he said gently. [[I never saw anything.]]

As Moose Boy approached the plane, the Cleaners stared at them and then exchanged a look with one another. Boris pulled out his com and dialed Dr. Bellum, knowing this may be a problem.

“Moose Boy and Otterman just returned to the plane.” he informed her the moment she picked up.

“That is...not ideal.” she replied. “Have they completed their mission?”

“Unknown.” Boris replied.

“Put them on the com.” she ordered.

Boris held the com up so Dr. Bellum could see the two approaching operatives, and her gaze immediately settled on Otterman’s bloody face.

“What happened?” she demanded, the moment they neared.

It was Otterman who answered. “The device you provided us malfunctioned.” he replied. “We took it to the correct room and turned it on, but instead of a minute delay, it was only a second delay. It then exploded in a flash of red light.”

Dr. Bellum nodded with a frown. “Was there anyone in the room with you?”

“Yes, there was a civilian there.” he answered. “I think he was a janitor or something.” 

“What did he look like?” she demanded eagerly.

“Middle-aged, dark balding hair, small gold spectacles and he had some sort of thick accent.”

Dr. Bellum nodded. “And what happened to this man when the device went off?”

Otterman paused, having no idea what happened to the man. “Er…”

“He got cut up into thousands of tiny pieces.” Moose Boy answered. “He fell apart like a puzzle.”

Dr. Bellum clapped her hands together. “Perfect! Er...I mean, how horrible.”

“I was injured in the blast and we weren’t able to retrieve the diamonds.” Otterman told her, his voice sounding completely contrite.

“No matter.” Dr. Bellum said dismissively. “It is not your fault the device malfunctioned, so you are to return immediately.”

“We need a doctor.” Moose Boy said firmly. “Sven’s been hit by one of the lasers.”

Dr. Bellum waved him off dismissively. “Yes, yes, I’ll have Vesalius flown in to meet you at the academy. Board the plane and wait for the Cleaners to return.”

Moose Boy gave her a nod, and she disconnected the call. He then turned towards the plane, and carried Otterman towards the stairs. The Cleaners watched them as they boarded and once again exchanged a silent look between them.

It wasn’t until they were on the plane and Moose Boy was seated, still holding Otterman that he allowed his tears to fall. He hugged his partner close to himself, and simply cried without saying a single word. Otterman knew his situation was bad, and honestly had no idea what he was going to do. What use was a blind operative? They were going to erase his memories and send him back to Sweden, and they both knew it. 

[[I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.]] Moose Boy whispered to him. [[I should have been faster.]]

Otterman shook his head, knowing they should have listened to their gut instincts and never entered the building to begin with. It had been him who had insisted they go, and it had been him who had allowed the man to take the device from them. Otterman had no one to blame except for himself...and Dr. Bellum. Otterman scowled, but knew they were completely at her mercy for now and had to play nice. As far as she was concerned, they thought it was all an accident, and that’s the way they needed it to remain if he wanted any hope of getting medical treatment. Dr. Vess was the most talented surgeon V.I.L.E was able to find, and he was Otterman’s only hope at this point.

[[Say nothing about what we saw.]] Otterman instructed him. [[Promise me.]]

Moose Boy sniffled wetly and hugged him even tighter. [[I promise.]] he vowed. 

Otterman nodded, and knew from this point on their lives were going to be completely different.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Dr. Vess had immediately whisked Otterman away the second he was laid on the gurney back on V.I.L.E island, and Moose Boy was left behind to wait. He was a nervous wreck and paced for the entire eighteen hour long surgery, and when he finally saw Dr. Vess leave the O.R, he rushed over to him.

“How is Sven?!” he demanded.

Dr. Vess looked Moose Boy up and down, his expression clearly not impressed. “He’ll live.” he replied, turning to leave.

Moose Boy quickly caught him by the sleeve, and he turned back around with a heavy sigh.

“What about his eyes?” Moose Boy demanded.

“How did you morons even manage to shoot a laser directly into both of his eyes?” Vess demanded, crossing his arms.

“One of Dr. Bellum’s inventions...didn’t work.” Moose Boy responded. “Thousands of lasers exploded out of a thingamajig.”

Vess rolled his eyes, this actually making perfect sense. “Ah.” he stated. “I’m assuming the lasers reflected off something before hitting him?”

Moose Boy nodded. “Off the wall.”

Vess’ eyes grew thoughtful as he considered that. “The only reason he wasn’t instantly killed was because they reflected. He was probably hit with hundreds of the lasers, but they had lost enough power to not harm his skin, but when they hit his eyes, there was enough power left to blind him.”

Moose Boy’s heart dropped. “You mean he’s not going to get his eyesight back?”

Vess gave him a shrug. “There’s no way to tell until his eyes begin to heal. We cannot remove his bandages for three days, and then we’ll know.”

Moose Boy took a deep breath.

Vess once again grew thoughtful. “The surgery was incredibly fascinating.” he commented. “I’ve never seen injuries quite like these before, and I’ll have to ask Bellum about the type of lasers. I repaired what I could, but his body will have to do the rest.”

“Can I see him?”

“He’ll likely be unconscious for the rest of the night.” Vess informed him, glancing down at his watch.

“Can I still see him?”

“I don’t really care, but do **not** touch any of his I.Vs or bandages. Touch anything you’re not supposed to and I’ll ban you from the infirmary.”

“I promise I’ll touch nothing.”

“I’ll be back later to check on him.” Vess stated, turning to leave. “Don’t let him remove his bandages if he happens to wake.”

Moose Boy nodded and then hurried into the infirmary, just wanting to see Otterman. He passed by a curtain and pulled it aside, but he saw a very short boy that was clearly a student laying the bed asleep. The boy’s entire lower torso was covered in burn-wraps, and it appeared like even the boy’s genitals had been burned . Moose Boy stared for a moment, wincing at the sight and knowing that would **not** have been an enjoyable place to be injured. Many of the bandages were spotted with blood, and Moose Boy turned away, quickly losing interest. 

Wandering further into the room, he peeked into a few other curtains, and finally he found the right one. Otterman looked very pitiful laying in the bed, and Moose Boy cautiously approached, seeing the thick bandages wrapped around his boyfriend’s head. Taking a seat on the bed, he very gently pulled Otterman into his lap and then leaned back, fully intending on staying the whole night with him.

Dr. Vess returned several hours later, and when he saw Moose Boy asleep on the bed with his patient, he let out an irritated sigh, but knew it wasn’t worth the effort of chasing the man off. Instead, he just worked around him as he checked Otterman’s vitals, and then he left again without waking either man.

“Idiots.” he muttered to himself.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

When Otterman woke the next morning, he immediately went into a panic when he couldn’t see, and Moose Boy had to hold him down until he calmed enough to listen. Otterman was convinced he would never see again, and Moose Boy didn’t want to get his hopes up too much, and didn’t know what to say.

[[We just have to wait.]] he told him, pulling him into a tight hug. [[Dr. Vess did everything he could.]]

Otterman began to sob, and Moose Boy hugged him even tighter.

“If I’m blind, I’ll be nothing.” Otterman said between his cries.

“No, you’re **everything.**” Moose Boy responded, also in English. “I will love you no matter what.”

Although they had been dating for years at this point, neither of them had ever really acknowledged it, knowing it was forbidden. Otterman clung to him tightly, terrified and having no idea what his future was going to hold. If his memories were erased, he’d be thrown back into a world of abuse blind. He’d be defenseless.

[[Henrik, I’m scared.” he admitted. [[I’m so scared…]]

Moose Boy didn’t loosen his hold. [[I know.]] he answered gently. [[I know you are, and we’ll get through this together.]]

Otterman depended on Moose Boy entirely for everything during the next few days, too afraid to try to do anything for himself. He had quickly fallen into a deep depression, and after the first day, he had stopped talking entirely. Moose Boy was worried for him, and finally he sought out Dr. Vess, hoping to get some help. He found the doctor tending to the burn victim, and when Moose Boy had hesitantly interrupted, Vess had **not** been very happy. He’d snapped at Moose Boy to wait his turn, and so he’d stood off to the side as Vess changed the boy’s bandages. When Vess was finally finished tending to his patient, he’d turned a withering glare on Moose Boy.

“What do you want?” he demanded, removing his gloves as he approached the nearby coffee pot.

“Sven isn’t himself…” Moose Boy said hesitantly.

Dr. Vess poured himself a mug of coffee, and simply stared at him impatiently. 

“It’s like he’s given up.” Moose Boy said, hoping he could get his point across. “He won’t speak, and he won’t eat. He just lays there…”

Dr. Vess downed the coffee without a word, and refilled his mug before finally answering. “Depression is normal in such a circumstance.” he replied. “If he’s blind when I remove his bandages, you have to be prepared for this to only get worse. I’m going to start him on anti-depressants, and if he’s still blind, he’ll be placed on suicide watch.”

Moose Boy stared at him in absolute horror. “Suicide?!”

“It’s pretty common after a traumatic injury. I’ll be by to check him in a few minutes.”

“Sven!” Moose Boy cried out, turning to run back to Otterman as fast as he could.

The second he reached Otterman’s bed, he yanked the other man into a bone-crushing hug, waking him up.

[[Don’t you **dare** think about hurting yourself!]] Moose Boy scolded. [[Don’t you **dare** leave me alone!]]

Otterman was incredibly confused, and he gave an uncomfortable squirm, his ribs feeling like they were about to be crushed.

[[What are you talking about?]] he demanded irritably. 

[[Dr. Vess said you might be depressed, and that sometimes depressed people try to kill themselves. I won’t let you do it! I’ll protect you from yourself!]]

Otterman gave another ineffective squirm. [[I’m not going to kill myself, Henrik!]] he snapped. [[Now, would you get your hands off of me?!]]

“_ Nej. _” Moose Boy replied. [[I’m going to hold you until you’re not sad anymore.]]

“Dum skalle.” Otterman muttered irritably. [[When is the doctor removing my bandages?]]

Although he was trying to keep his words steady, Moose Boy could still hear the nervousness in the other man’s voice.

[[Dr. Vess said he’ll be by in a few minutes.]]

Moose Boy felt Otterman tense up, and he rubbed a comforting hand on the smaller man’s back, having no idea how to help.

[[You have to let me go.]] Otterman said after a time.

[[No! I’ll never let you go, and I don’t want you to ever suggest something like that! I’m here to stay!]]

Otterman let out an aggravated noise. [[No, you moron, you have to let me go before Dr. Vess sees you holding me. We can’t get caught being too close to one another.]]

[...oh.]] Moose Boy replied, finally releasing him out of the hug. [[Right.]]

Otterman raised his hands to his bandaged head, desperately hoping he wasn’t going to be disappointed. Only moments later, Vess pulled aside the curtain, his gaze on the clipboard in his hand. He glanced up at Otterman, who had turned in his direction at the sound of the curtain.

“What’s this about you not eating?” he demanded.

Otterman gave him a shrug.

“Don’t make my job any more difficult than it already is.” Vess scolded with a sigh. “Just eat your damn food, and do as you’re told.”

Otterman clenched his fists nervously. “Are you going to remove the bandages now?” he asked.

“In just a moment.” Vess confirmed distractedly. “I’m giving you a sedative first...just in case.”

Otterman tensed as he realized the doctor didn’t seem to be holding out much hope. He felt despair starting to well within him, and he fell silent, clenching his fists as hard as he could.

“Hold out your hand.” Vess ordered.

Otterman did as he was told and he felt something placed into his palm.

“Take this sedative.” Vess ordered, pressing a glass of water into his other hand. “I’m going to dim the lights to reduce the discomfort you might experience when I remove the bandages.”

Otterman placed the pill into his mouth, and then sipped the water, feeling incredibly nervous. Holding out the glass, Moose Boy took it from him and set it aside. A few moments later, Vess had returned and he approached the bed, setting his clipboard aside.

“Sit up straight,” he ordered. “I’m going to remove your bandages now. Keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them.”

Otterman sat up straight and gave him a nod. He felt as Vess very slowly and carefully began peeling the bandages away, and it took all of his self-control not to immediately open his eyes. He felt layer after layer removed, and then the gauze was removed from his eyes. He flinched as he felt Vess clean the area around his eyes, but he stayed obediently still.

“Alright, you can **slowly** start to open your eyes.”

Otterman cracked his eyes open a sliver and immediately there was absolute agony as light seemed to stab into his eyes

“Ah!” he cried out, clapping his hands to his eyes.

“Can you see?” Vess demanded.

“It’s too bright!” Otterman complained.

“Then that’s a yes.” Vess responded. “Excellent! You’ve at least regained enough sight to see light. Your eyesight is likely damaged, but hopefully you’ll be able to see well enough to function.”

Otterman slowly opened his eyes a crack again, the light still agonizing, but he wanted to know if he could see. His vision started to focus a little bit and the first thing he saw was Moose Boy’s smiling face. His vision was incredibly blurry, but he could see.

Forgetting himself, he threw his arms around Moose Boy in a tight hug. [[I can see!]] he sobbed. [[Henrik, I can see!]]

Vess immediately gave Otterman an impatient poke in the arm. “I need to look at your eyes.” he informed him.

Otterman sat back, and then winced as the doctor looked into his eyes with a critical frown. It was hard to keep his eyes open, and after a minute or so he had to close them again.

“They’re looking pretty good, but they’ll be very sensitive for a couple weeks.” Vess stated, once again picking up his clipboard. “Don’t do anything stupid during that time. Keep your eyes covered, and clean.”

“Thank you, Dr. Vess!” Otterman said genuinely. “Thank you so much!’

“It’s my job.” Vess responded, not even glancing at him. “You’re likely going to need glasses once your eyes have sufficiently healed. I expect you to report to the infirmary every morning to get your eyes checked.”

“You mean I can leave?!” Otterman asked in surprise.

“Your condition is not life-threatening, and I need the bed.” Dr. Vess replied. “Take one of the operative rooms on campus, and **don’t** do anything stupid.”

“Why do you keep saying that?” Otterman demanded. “Why would we do anything stupid?”

Vess simply stared at him. “You’re the operative who fell down a flight of stairs and stabbed themselves with a pencil. Forgive me if I’m a bit skeptical over your abilities.”

Otterman’s face flushed. “That was during training, and I tripped!” he protested.

“Just be careful.” Vess stated, turning away. “I have enough on my plate without dealing with nonsense.”

After Vess had left, Otterman rolled his eyes. [[God, he’s an ass, isn’t he?]]

Moose Boy smiled at him. [[A bit, but he **did** save your eyesight.]]

Otterman laughed. [[True.]] he acknowledged. [[You ready to get out of this hell-hole?]]

Moose Boy nodded, and immediately reached out to help him to his feet. Otterman leaned in and gave Moose Boy a quick kiss as he stepped down onto the floor, and then took his partner’s arm, his eyesight still too blurry to walk unaided. As they walked towards the door, Moose Boy smiled down at him, feeling happier than he could ever remember.

“Jag älskar dig.” Moose Boy whispered, planting a kiss on top of his head.

Otterman glanced up at him and returned the smile. “Jag älskar dig.”

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**TBC**

**The next update will be whenever I get around to it. lol**

**Dr. Vess belongs to Violetfic and was used with her permission**

**The names of Moose Boy and Otterman belong to Animedemon01 and were used with her permission**


	4. Triple Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of tales about the heroes and villains of Carmen Sandiego. Each chapter is a new short story.
> 
> This is a companion piece to the Team Red Family series. It's not necessary to read the main story, but it's recommended for context.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> WARNING  
WARNING  
READ THIS WARNING: There are mentions of child abuse, drugs and neglect in this chapter.
> 
> This is a request fic for Lavender who asked for a backstory of Double Trouble and Siren.
> 
> It's been a long time since I've added any new backstories to this fic! I still have plenty more planned, just not a lot of time to get them all done. 
> 
> If you're enjoying the story so far, please let me know your thoughts. I'm open to all suggestions and criticisms as it helps me improve the story.
> 
> Happy Reading!

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**The Intrepid Tales of Team Red**

**Chapter 4**

**Triple Trouble**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Theodore didn’t understand much about the things that happened around him, but he knew something was different. Although there had been less and less food in the house over the past few months, his mother’s belly had been getting bigger and bigger. He assumed she had all the food hidden somewhere but no matter how much he searched the house, he found nothing.

Theodore was always hungry and he knew his brother was the same. They were growing fast and there was never enough food for them. Constant hunger gnawed at them, and they fought over any food they found in the house.

They had just had their fourth birthday the month before and they’d already outgrown all of their new clothes. They wore elastic-waisted pants because they could no longer fit into any of their other pants. Their house was dirty, smelled awful and there were bugs absolutely everywhere. The children didn’t know any better and thought this was just how life was.

Lately their parents were spending more and more time away from the house and he and Roosevelt spent a lot of time alone together. They actually preferred it this way because when their parents were home, they were always in a bad mood and sometimes they would hit them and call them names. Theodore didn’t know what the word ‘retard’ meant, but that’s what everyone always called them. He had a feeling that was a bad word, but he didn’t really know what it meant. He had a feeling something was wrong with him and his brother, but no one ever explained it to him. 

Theodore didn’t really understand where his parents went or what they got up to, but he was terrified of them.

The only time his parents ever seemed happy was when the man with all the colourful candy came to visit. Some of the candy was in bottles and some was inside needles, but his parents seemed happy with both kinds. They would swallow or inject the candy into their arms and then they would act very strange. Sometimes they were laughing and partying and other times they were screaming and crying, and acting incredibly scary. It was during these times that the twins would get hurt.

Theodore remembered when their father took a knife and cut Roosevelt with it, screaming something about missing money. The twins had never used money before, but their parents wouldn’t listen when they were like that. The twins quickly learned to stay far away from their parents and they depended on each other for everything.

Theodore watched his mother as she paced back and forth in their living room and he could tell something was wrong. She was muttering to herself and acting agitated, and so he slipped off the couch and snuck away to the bedroom he shared with Roosevelt. They played with their toy cars for a while in silence, and they could hear their mother yelling and crashing about the house. Their father had been gone for a couple days which was normal, but for some reason their mother kept yelling out his name. The yelling became louder and more desperate, and when it dissolved into screams of agony, the twins set their toys aside.

Theodore exchanged a long and silent look with his twin and then headed for the door with Roosevelt at his heels. They followed the screams to the bathroom and when they peeked inside, they found their mother laying naked on the floor surrounded by blood and fluid. She screamed and screamed and the twins simply stared having no idea what was happening. Suddenly there was the sound of fluid hitting the floor and within seconds there was a baby lying on the linoleum. 

Roosevelt let out a gasp, and Theodore stared at the motionless baby. Where did it come from, and why wasn’t it crying? The baby was small,  **far** too small, and he frowned in concern. He’d never seen such a small baby even on television. It was incredibly pale and it almost looked blue to him.

Their mother let out several gasps and continued laying there for a few long minutes. When she finally sat up, she stared down at the tiny infant and let out a curse. She poked and prodded it for a few moments but the baby simply laid there eyes closed. 

Grabbing a towel, she wrapped the baby in it and then glanced around the filthy bathroom. Her gaze fell on the trashcan beside the toilet and she tossed the bloody bundle into it. She stared down into the garbage, and then turned away without a word. Pretending she didn’t see her sons staring, she staggered past them, muttering something about needing a drink.

Now that the show was over, Roosevelt turned and headed back to their bedroom, but Theodore couldn’t take his eyes off the garbage can. Why did their mother just have a baby? Why did she throw it away? Why wasn’t it moving? Theodore struggled to make sense of this, and slowly he stepped into the bathroom. Avoiding the puddles of blood, he approached the garbage can and peered down inside it. The blood-covered towel rested inside and he found himself growing curious. Was it a real baby? If it was real, why did it look like that?

Reaching down, he carefully picked the towel up, not wanting to drop the baby. Giving a nervous glance over his shoulder, he hurried for his bedroom, wanting to take a closer look at the baby.

Roosevelt looked up from playing cars and frowned when he saw the bloody towel.

“Teddy, what are you doing?” he demanded.

“I wanna see the baby,” Theodore replied, closing the bedroom door.

“You’re gonna get in trouble…” Roosevelt warned him.

Theodore didn’t care and set the towel down in the middle of the floor. Carefully unwrapping the towel, he stared down at the little baby. Theodore saw the baby was a boy, and he looked him up and down in curiosity. The baby’s skin was incredibly pale and his eyes were closed, seemingly asleep.

“Wake up, baby!” Theodore said in a gentle voice, “Time to wake up now!”

The baby didn’t move.

“It’s broke,” Roosevelt commented, giving the baby a hard nudge.

“Don’t, you’ll hurt him!” Theodore scolded, “You gots to be gentle with babies!”

Roosevelt rolled his eyes but he did back away a bit. Theodore gently poked and prodded the baby a bit but it still didn’t move.

“Why won’t he wake up?” Theodore asked worriedly.

Roosevelt shrugged. “Maybe he’s real tired?”

Theodore lifted the baby a bit and its head slumped back, its little mouth dropping open. Theodore gasped when he saw it’s mouth was full of fluid.

“He’s choking! He’s got water in his mouth!”

“Shake him!” Roosevelt suggested, “Get it out! Babies aren’t supposed to have water!”

Theodore was about to shake the baby when something in his gut told him not to. He remembered seeing something on tv about babies and felt like he had to be very careful.

“Shake him!” Roosevelt ordered, “Get the water out!”

Instead of listening to his brother, Theodore rolled the baby over onto its stomach and then began patting him on the back. Fluid began dribbling out of the baby’s mouth and so he continued patting and rubbing the little back. There was suddenly a very weak little cry and the baby’s chest began going up and down. Rolling the baby back over, Theodore saw the baby’s eyes were open a crack and he felt relieved.

“He’s okay now!”

Roosevelt leaned in close and then wrinkled his nose at the baby. “What are you gonna do with it?”

“Mama didn’t want him, and she threw him away,” Theodore replied, “So that means it’s finder’s keepers.”

Roosevelt side-eyed his twin. “What are you gonna do with a baby?”

“I always wanted a doll and now I have a real baby instead!” Theodore announced, “I’m gonna take care of him!”

Roosevelt squinted at him. “...why?”

“He needs us, Roose! He's our baby brother!”

Roosevelt stared down at the baby, realizing for the first time he now had a little brother. He thought of how their parents were and he didn’t like the idea of them being anywhere near the little baby. If they hit this little baby, it would really hurt him. He gave Theodore a nod and then glanced around the bedroom. His gaze settled on the closet and he gave it a thoughtful look.

“He can sleep in the closet so mommy and daddy don’t find him.”

Theodore nodded. “Good idea! You make a comfy bed for him in there and I’ll clean him up!”

Theodore wiped the blood from the baby, but he wasn’t quite sure what to do about the umbilical cord. Deciding to just leave it alone, and carried the bloody towel back to the bathroom and threw it out. When he returned, Roosevelt had cleared a space in the closet and made a nest of blankets. Theodore wrapped the baby in one of the shirts he’d outgrown and held the baby awkwardly as it continued to cry in tiny squeaks that sounded like a kitten.

“We don’t gots no milk…” Theodore pointed out.

Roosevelt frowned, knowing there was zero chance of there being any milk in the kitchen. “Mrs. Raymond has a baby…” he suggested.

“Oh!” Theodore exclaimed, “You’re right!”

Their next door neighbour had been quite friendly with them and she had just given birth a couple weeks ago to a little girl.

“Maybe we can get some from her?” Roosevelt suggested.

Theodore immediately shook his head. “No, then she’ll know about the baby!”

Roosevelt’s brow furrowed as he thought. “I have an idea,” he announced, “I’ll be right back.”

Theodore watched him as he approached the sliding glass door in their room and disappeared onto the veranda they shared with their neighbour. Theodore heard the sound of Mrs. Raymond’s glass door sliding open and he realized Roosevelt was sneaking into her house. He waited nervously and several minutes later, Roosevelt returned with his arms loaded with baby supplies.

“No one’s home,” he announced, setting his bounty down on the floor.

He went back over four more times and it was clear he was taking everything he could. It took both of them to figure out how to fasten a diaper, and then they stared at the bottles of formula in confusion. The baby was wriggling and crying and they had a feeling he was hungry.

“Is this milk?” Theodore asked skeptically.

“It gots a picture of a baby on it,” Roosevelt pointed out.

Theodore nodded and that evidence seemed solid enough for him. Using his teeth to remove the plastic, he then struggled to open the bottle. He ended up spilling a bit on the carpet, but he felt satisfied when he finally got it open. Placing the bottle’s teat to the baby’s mouth, he was surprised when he didn’t seem interested. The baby was so tiny that the teat was too big for his mouth, and Theodore had no idea what to do. Desperate, he popped the lid off the bottle and poured a few drops in the baby’s mouth. The baby reflexively swallowed and Theodore grinned happily. It was an incredibly tedious way to feed the baby, but he patiently fed him drop by drop.

The baby seemed to cry incessantly but it was such a tiny little noise that neither of the twins minded. The cry could barely be heard and they knew their parents wouldn’t be able to hear it through the walls. 

Being only four years old, the twins had no idea what they were doing. They fumbled with everything, and several times they made mistakes. They kept forgetting feedings and sometimes Roosevelt was a little too rough and made the baby cry.

The biggest mistake however, was leaving the diaper on too long and the baby got a bad rash. The sight of the rash had scared them and Theodore ran to the next door neighbour to ask about rashes. Mrs. Raymond thought it was just innocent curiosity and she explained that babies needed to be changed a lot to avoid the rash. She told him about the rash cream to help, and when she wasn’t looking, he stole the jar of it. After that he checked the diapers almost obsessively. 

The diapers were enormous on the baby, but they still seemed to do the trick. The umbilical cord fell off after a week, and Theodore desperately hoped that was supposed to happen. After two weeks of sleepless nights, and endless diaper changes, they encountered a problem. They ran out of baby supplies. 

Mrs. Raymond had begun locking her patio door assuming their parents were the ones who kept stealing from her. They began using old clothes as diapers but their old shirts were quickly running out.

The baby was now incredibly hungry and they had nothing to give him. His cries became louder and more desperate and no amount of rocking or gentle words calmed him down.

It was during one of these bouts of crying that their parents finally heard the baby. Bursting into the room, their mother stared with wide eyes at the baby in Theodore’s arms, completely flabbergasted.

“Where did that baby come from?!” she demanded, staggering as she approached. 

Theodore placed the baby behind him and Roosevelt stepped between them, not wanting her anywhere near the baby.

“He’s our brother!” Theodore said firmly.

“What are you talking about? Where did you find that baby?” 

“He came out of you!” Theodore answered, “We been taking care of him!”

She blinked and then glanced at her husband. “I never had a baby!”

Her husband scratched his head as his ‘candy’-addled brain tried to make sense of this. “I think I remember you being knocked up…” he replied uncertainly.

Their mother frowned and then scoffed. “I think that would be something I would remember…”

“Naw, I definitely remember you being fat a while back. I think this is our kid.”

Their mother glanced to the baby and simply seemed confused. “Then what’d we name him?”

Their father thought long and hard and his words were incredibly slurred as he replied. He said something and Theodore and Roosevelt realized the baby now had a name.

“Delano…” Theodore repeated happily, “His name is Delano!”

Their father blinked in a dazed sort of way. “What? No, that’s not what I sai-”

“Oh, I don’t care,” their mother snapped, “The baby seems fine in here and they can babysit him for a while so we can relax and have some fun.”

Their father laughed and then nodded in agreement. “Phil is supposed to bring some of the good stuff soon!”

“Wait!” Theodore called after them and their father paused.

“What?”

“The baby needs milk and diapers.”

Their father’s face twisted in fury. “All these damn fucking kids are bleeding me dry! I can’t have anything for myself!”

Their father reached into his pocket and then tossed a few bills in their direction. “Make sure the baby is fed,” he ordered, “Buy the shit he needs from the store.”

Their parents then left the room without another word, and Roosevelt hesitantly picked up the money. They’d never spent money before and didn’t really understand how it worked. Hiding the small wad of bills in his sock, Roosevelt was glad they hadn’t tried to hurt the baby. They were lucky their parents were in a good mood this time otherwise things would have turned out very differently.

“Teddy, we need to go get food for the baby!”

Teddy glanced at the baby and felt worried. “We can’t leave him by himself! Mommy or daddy might hurt him!”

“Well, we can’t bring him with us!” Roosevelt announced, “He’s too little!”

“I’ll stay with the baby and you go to the store!”

Roosevelt instantly felt uncertain. He’d never gone that far by himself before and he wasn’t sure he could do it. Knowing his brothers needed him, he gave a solemn nod and then began hunting around for his sneakers. They were much too small and hurt his feet, but after some struggling he managed to get them on. Not knowing how to tie his laces, he left them hanging and then headed for the door. Tiptoeing past his parents in the living room, he left the apartment.

Theodore worried the entire time Roosevelt was gone, and after what seemed an eternity, he returned with formula and diapers. The diapers were a very small size and Theodore was happy to see they fit better.

“The lady at the store helped me find the right ones. I told her my baby brother was brand new and daddy asked me to get baby supplies.”

Theodore wasted no time and gave Delano some of the formula. From then on every time they ran out of diapers or formula, one of the twins would ask for money. Most of the time their parents didn’t have much, but they usually had enough to keep the baby fed.

The twins began spending their every waking moment taking care of the baby and their life suddenly didn’t seem quite as awful. They were still always hungry, and neglected, but all of their focus was now on taking care of their little brother. They used him to distract themselves from the dirt and abuse, and their parents were oblivious. The baby insisted on always being held, and the twins both got incredibly attached to him as they took turns caring for him. Theodore quickly came to realize that singing calmed the baby down when he cried, and so he sang to him as often as he could.

As the baby got a little bigger, he was finally able to drink out of a bottle and he was becoming more alert. He cried every single time he was set down, and so the twins simply never put him down, and the baby seemed perfectly content with this.

They had no clothes for him and so they kept him swaddled in a t-shirt to keep him warm. The twins were given new clothes every now and then, but their parents kept forgetting the baby even existed. They did the best they could to always keep him swaddled, and Delano didn’t seem to mind.

The twins delighted at seeing him grow and when he smiled for the first time, they couldn’t help but grin back. That happy little smile made everything worth it, and they were determined to always protect him from their parents. The baby wasn’t a big eater and he was still  **so** small and thin. By the time he was three months old, he was the size of a regular newborn and still not gaining much weight. 

The baby’s development seemed to stall but the twins didn’t realize anything was wrong. They continued caring for him the same way they always did, too young to know any better. By the time he was a year old, he still wasn’t sitting up or even rolling over on his own. He was also sick extremely frequently, and he barely took any of the formula when offered. They could see every rib on his chest and his limbs looked like they would snap with the lightest touch.

Delano enjoyed watching them play their really old NES game system, and he’d sit there quietly for hours watching them get killed by the same goomba over and over again. 

By the time he was two, he was finally sitting up, but he tired extremely easily and he still preferred to be held. Now that he wasn’t quite so delicate, he moved out of the closet and began sleeping between his brothers on the only bed in the room.

To their surprise, one day while they were playing video games, Delano reached down and pressed a button, making Mario jump over the goomba that always killed them. He began giggling hysterically, and Theodore had never felt prouder. He handed his brother the controller and to Theodore’s delight he began playing the game. He died over and over but he quickly improved and by the end of the afternoon, he had beaten the entire first world.

Delano still wasn’t speaking yet but the twins had a feeling he was smarter than them. This was confirmed when Roosevelt was leaving to buy more baby supplies and Delano tied his shoes for him. Their parents always made sure to tell the twins how dumb and useless they were and so they weren’t quite certain if this was normal baby behaviour or not.

Although Delano was sick a lot, he seemed to be getting smarter and smarter by the day. He was sitting quietly colouring by himself and the twins were playing cars and not paying him too much mind. Selecting a bright red crayon out of the box, he reached over and began marking on the wall. He wrote half the alphabet before the twins noticed and they were aghast.

“No, no, no, Del!” Theodore cried out, rushing to stop him, “You can’t draw on the wall, that’s bad! Bad baby!”

Roosevelt stared at the mess on the wall and knew their parents were going to be furious. “Bad!” he scolded, wagging a finger in his brother’s face, “You need to be punished!”

Theodore stared at his twin and had no intention of raising a hand to Delano. “You do it!” he told Roosevelt, “I’m not hitting him.”

Roosevelt stepped forward and raised his hand to slap Delano and then hesitated. Memories of their parents furiously beating them came to his mind, and he remembered the ache of the bruises they left. His little brother stared up at him with large tear-filled eyes and Roosevelt suddenly felt like a monster. Lowering his hand, he instead gave the toddler a hug.

“Sorry, Del, I won’t hit ya,” he promised, “But you can’t draw on the wall! Drawing on the wall is bad!”

Delano stared down at the crayon in his hand and then glanced back to the wall. He then dropped the crayon to the floor and began to wail. His brothers were quick to comfort him but the cries disturbed their parents who were trying to sleep off a night of partying. Their father burst into the room, hand clutching his head, and his gaze settled on Delano who instantly went dead-silent.

“Keep that baby  **quiet** !” their father snarled, “Or I swear I’m going to-”

His trailed off as his gaze went to the marked up wall.

“Who did that?!” he demanded.

“It’s okay, daddy, we’ll wipe it off!” Theodore assured him, “Del didn’t know any better!”

“That baby marked on my walls?!” their father yelled, “I’m going to lose my security deposit! All you little shits do is take my money and ruin  **everything** ! I’m sick of the disrespect in my own house!”

“But daddy-”

“I’m going to teach him a lesson he’ll  **never** forget!” their father snarled, unclasping his belt.

The twins gasped and Theodore clutched Delano tightly. “Daddy, you can’t! He’s only little!”

“He has to learn!” their father said, taking a step towards them.

Roosevelt suddenly surged forward and put himself between them. “No!” he yelled out, “You leave Del alone!”

“Get out of my way  **now** !” their father said staggering a bit as he walked.

Roosevelt glanced over his shoulder at his little brother and then his expression hardened. Without a word, he stepped forward and shoved his father hard in the chest. Although Roosevelt was only six years old, he was very large and their father was knocked backwards against the wall. Their father stared at him in stunned silence for a few moments before his expression turned dangerous.

Roosevelt received the worst beating he’d ever gotten in his whole life that day, and by the time their father left, there was blood splattered across their room. Roosevelt had taken the beating so Delano remained unharmed. Their father had completely forgotten about the marks on the wall.

Roosevelt was laying on the floor crying hard, and Theodore and Delano curled up beside him and wrapped their arms around him. Delano hugged Roosevelt as tightly as he could and placed a kiss on his cheek, crying hard for his brother. Eventually Theodore helped Roosevelt into bed and that’s where he stayed for four days as he recovered.

Delano never marked on the wall again.

Problems arose when the twins entered school and they knew they couldn’t leave Delano alone with their parents. One of them skipped school every single day to watch him, and as a result they both kept failing their tests. When they were eight years old and in the first grade for the third time, something terrible happened.

Delano got incredibly sick and soon they couldn’t wake him. He wouldn’t drink and he wouldn’t open his eyes. His skin felt hot to the touch and his breathing sounded incredibly strained. Knowing they needed help, the twins decided to do something dangerous; they decided to leave the house with their brother.

Theodore wrapped Delano in a blanket and then they began walking out of the apartment, knowing they had to find someone to help.

“Where are you going with the baby?” their mother demanded.

“Del is sick, we’re going to the doctor,” Theodore explained.

“No you’re not!” their mother quickly said, “I’m not paying for a doctor! He’s fine and now go back to your room!”

Theodore met her gaze and shook his head. “No. He’s sick.”

“What did you say to your mother?” their father demanded.

“He said NO.” Roosevelt answered, stepping in-between them.

“Excuse me?” their father snarled, “Are you looking for another beating, you little retard?”

Roosevelt was now two years older than the last time he stood up to his father, and he was a  **very** large boy. He was now nearly the same height as his father and he glared at him angrily and didn’t back down.

“You’re not touching me!” Roosevelt hissed.

“Oh, is that so?” their father snapped, getting to his feet.

As he stormed towards Roosevelt, the boy clenched his hand into a tight fist. Before anyone realized what he was doing, he lashed out and punched his father in the face as hard as he could. Their father fell backwards into the glass coffee table and glass shattered in all directions.

“You’re not touching us!” Roosevelt snarled, holding up his fist, “Never again! I’m not scared of you no more!”

Their parents looked completely stunned and Roosevelt gently placed a hand on Theodore’s shoulder.

“Come on, Ted, let’s go.”

They were only eight years old and they had no idea where they were going to go. They walked block after block in silence, worried they wouldn’t find help in time. When they saw the signs for the local hospital, they headed that way and after an hour of walking, they finally made it to the hospital. When they walked in the front doors, they headed straight for the receptionist.

The receptionist looked up from her computer and when she saw the children, she frowned.

“May I help you?” she asked.

“Hello, my brother needs to see a doctor,” Theodore said politely. 

She glanced over to Roosevelt. “And what seems to be the problem? Are you hurt?”

“No, not me,” Roosevelt corrected, “It’s Del who needs help.”

Theodore unwrapped the bundle in his arms and when the receptionist saw the sick child, she let out a gasp. Everything seemed to happen incredibly fast after that. Delano was placed on a stretcher and doctors, policemen and social workers were all suddenly very interested in them. Theodore and Roosevelt told them absolutely everything about how they had dug their brother out of the garbage and cared for him since.

The doctors were horrified when they learned Delano was four years old and not a toddler like they had first thought. He was incredibly malnourished and immediately hooked up to several ivs.

“You mean he’s never eaten anything besides baby formula?!” one of the doctors cried out.

“Well yeah,” Thoedore responded, “He’s a baby!”

“He should have been eating food from three months old!” the distressed doctor cried out.

The twins were examined too and a police officer took pictures of all their scars and bruises. Delano was taken away into intensive care and it terrified them to be away from him. Since the day he was born, they’d been with him for every moment and they were worried and anxious. They stayed in the hospital for two days and then a social worker had a chat with them.

The social worker informed them that their parents had been found in possession of drugs, and were being charged for drug trafficking, child neglect, and child abuse. It would be very unlikely they would be getting out of jail any time soon as the bond would be incredibly high. The children would not be returning home and instead their next closest relative had been located.

The twins weren’t sure how to feel about this, and when an old woman entered the room, they were informed she was their grandmother from their father’s side. She looked very stern and very mean, and she walked slowly with a cane. They were a little afraid of her since she looked like someone that would beat them, and so they were on their best behaviour when she spoke to them. She’d had no idea she had grandchildren since she hadn’t seen her son since he was eighteen years old. She spoke with them all afternoon and then they were finally allowed in to see Delano.

Delano was hooked up to tubes and machines and he was still asleep when they visited. They went home with their grandmother and to their relief she was actually a very kind woman. She was impatient and rather loud, but she fed them as much as they wanted and they had a large and clean bedroom of their own.

They visited Delano every single day at the hospital and after a week, he finally opened his eyes. He immediately reached for his brothers, but they couldn’t hold him because of all the machines he was hooked up to. He clearly didn’t understand and got upset, and when they were forced to leave him after visiting hours were over, he wailed in distress. He was terrified to be left with strangers in such a scary place, and Theodore and Roosevelt became upset as well. The twins had argued and argued to stay with him, but their grandmother took them home to her house and explained to them that their brother was very sick and had to stay with the doctors.

Delano stayed in the hospital for over a month before he was finally released to go home. Their grandmother had decorated a small bedroom just for him and she spoke to him kindly and softly but he was afraid of her. He clung to his brothers and didn’t want to be left alone with her.

The twins immediately started to care for their brother again but were shocked when their grandmother kept shooing them away to play. She took care of everything, and they weren’t sure how to feel about that. They’d spent a full four years doing everything for Delano and now they felt useless and a little bit sad to be pushed aside.

The twins found it strange that their grandmother took over all care of their little brother and it took them a while to accept it. No other adult had ever helped them before, and they’d hovered over her every single time she was touching their brother. Finally they began to trust her more and more, much to Delano’s discomfort. He didn’t like being touched by a stranger, and he cried every single time he was taken from his brothers.

Their grandmother was patient however and after three weeks, Delano finally started getting used to her presence around the house. She made him soft foods to get him used to eating and although he gave her a hard time, she always managed to coax him to eat. He was four years old and wasn’t walking, wasn’t talking and he wasn’t potty-trained. Their grandmother focused on putting some weight on him first and then she began encouraging him to stand on his own. 

Delano was stubborn and he liked being held and it was a battle to get him to take his first steps. His brothers did everything they could to help encourage him, and Theodore suspected he only gave in to please them. He took his first steps towards them, and they had praised him immensely.

Within a few months, Delano was finally walking properly, and feeding himself without help. He flat-out refused to be potty-trained and their grandmother was getting frustrated with him until she discovered his love of icecream. Using the sweet treat as a reward, he was potty trained within two weeks. 

Although still incredibly small for his age, Delano was finally starting to catch up to where he should be.

The children weren’t told much about what happened to their parents, but they knew they were in jail, and they’d never have to see them again.

Life was infinitely better now that they lived with their grandmother and all three boys were putting on weight fast and they were clean and safe. Every night their grandmother put them all to bed early and every single night Delano snuck in to sleep with his brothers. No matter how much she scolded him or carried him back to his own bed, he always snuck his way back to his brothers’ rooms.

His silence worried their grandmother a lot and she worked him every single day in an attempt to get him to speak. He said nothing, and he was taken to doctor after doctor who couldn’t determine a reason for the silence. They were told the abuse and malnutrition likely caused irreversible brain damage and he might never speak.

Their grandmother wasn’t ready to give up and she spent hours and hours every day playing games with Delano and showing him flashcards as she said the words. She chose easy to say words and held up pictures of cats, and balls, and trees, and tried her best to get him to speak. Delano would simply stare at her like she was a moron and not say a word. 

Theodore and their grandmother would sing to him and he seemed to love it, but he never once tried to join in. After months of no success, they began to wonder if he would never speak.

The twins went to school every day but they struggled a lot with school. Their grandmother would help them with their homework before supper each night and Delano would sit and watch. Their reading was terrible and she made them read a short book every single day to practice. One day, Theodore decided he was going to read a recipe from her cookbook to be different, and he struggled with the odd words. Their grandmother seemed amused and she allowed him to sound out the words without her help.

Delano seemed extremely interested and he was leaning over the book watching as Theodore pointed at each word as he tried to read it.

“Grams, what’s this word?” he asked, pointing to a long one.

“Sound it out, Theodore sweetheart,” she encouraged.

“Coo-Co-Con-Cof…”

“Confectioner’s Sugar,” Delano helpfully stated.

Everyone turned to stare at him, but he was too busy looking at the pictures of the cake to notice. Theodore didn’t know what ‘gifted’ meant but he assumed it meant smart because that’s what everyone started calling Delano from that point on. He slowly began saying more and more words and then he began using his words to argue. He was always arguing about something or complaining to their grandmother but she didn’t put up with any of his sass. He began spending a lot of time staring into the corner during timeout, and he always seemed to get himself in trouble.

To their grandmother’s delight, Delano had a beautiful singing voice and she encouraged all of the boys to sing. Roosevelt couldn’t carry a tune at all but the other two were incredibly good. Siren was always singing, and their grandmother jokingly called him her little songbird.

Their grandmother was Italian and she often would speak to the boys in her native language. The twins found Italian extremely confusing and hard, but Delano picked it up easily. He spoke with his grandmother in Italian often, and this seemed to please her a lot. The twins tried their best and after a lot of work and patient corrections, their Italian became passable. 

When Delano entered school, he was grumpy and anti-social and avoided the other children like the plague. He  **hated** school, and made it clear he resented being there. Their grandmother kept setting up playdates with children his age, but Delano was horrible to the other children and they always ended up crying or asking to go home. She scolded him for this, but he simply didn’t like other people. When she sent him to school with birthday invitations, he tossed them into the trash the second he entered the school. He refused to even try to make friends, and he even argued with teachers when he was forced to partner up.

His mouth got him into endless trouble with everyone, and their grandmother received constant calls from the school. He’d get in trouble when he got home, and he was almost always grounded for something. It became a common sight to see Delano sulkily sitting in the corner with a bar of soap in his mouth, and the twins often scolded him as well. He acted sweet and gentle with his family, but he was like an entirely different person when it came to anyone else.

The school skipped Delano ahead two years and he ended up in the same grade as his brothers. To everyone’s surprise, the twins then began drastically improving in school. Delano didn’t want to leave his brothers behind and so he helped them study every single night and explained things they didn’t understand. He refused to be skipped ahead any more years, even though they tried to skip him straight to highschool.

Delano still loved being carried around by his brothers, and their grandmother was always snapping at the twins that he could walk and to put him down. No matter how many times she scolded them, Delano was held any time he wanted it. Even at school he was always sitting on their shoulders or being piggybacked. The twins didn’t mind and liked having their brother where they could see him.

He was always by the twins side, and because of this he became bold in making nasty comments to other people. No one dared go after him because of the enormous twins, and so he used his brothers for protection from everyone else. His brothers knew how smart he was and they trusted his judgement completely when it came to almost everything. He quickly took charge of them and they followed his ideas and plans without question.

Money was extremely tight living with their grandmother, and although they didn’t have a lot of toys or treats, they were always well-fed and clothed. Her pension didn’t stretch far, but she did the best she could for them.

The twins noticed Delano tended to steal when they were in stores or from other children at school. It was always little things, and so they’d scold him a bit but not tattle on him.

Delano began stealing more seriously when they were in junior high, and when the twins saw the flow of cash he always had, they instantly wanted to be included. He showed them what to do, and they began robbing the other students and even the teachers. Delano was smart and they hadn’t been caught even once. They hid anything they purchased from their grandmother and Delano began planning bigger and bigger thefts.

Delano remained incredibly small for his age, and when he entered highschool, he was still only 4’10. It didn’t seem to bother him however, and no one dared bully him because of it. The doctors doubted he would ever get any taller, but he was hoping he would hit at least hit five feet tall.

The twins kept getting bigger and bigger and they were over six and half feet tall in high school. They played football and were extremely popular. They had quite a few friends and Delano didn’t like this and was rude to them all in his jealousy. The kids learned to tolerate Delano’s unpleasantness and he was mostly ignored. 

The twins became typical meatheaded jocks, and they bullied and made fun of ‘nerds’ and others to fit in with the crowd. They used to bully kids for being ‘gay’ and used to make a lot of crude jokes with their friends. They spouted constant hatred towards the LGBTQ community and everyone around them seemed to agree.

All of that stopped the day a fourteen year old Delano snarled at them that he was gay and to knock it off. They’d been taught by their parents and the kids around them that being gay was weird and gross and this caught them completely off-guard. They loved their baby brother more than anything and they could  **never** hate him and so they wondered if perhaps they were wrong about what they said. They didn’t care that he was gay, and he was still the same person he always was. 

They apologized for what they said, and from that day on they tried their hardest to understand and be supportive. Delano didn’t date anyone however, and he just simply didn’t seem interested in anybody at the school.

Delano hated almost everyone, but he loved his brothers and he loved his grandmother. He and his grandmother had similar personalities and although both were loud and rude, they were all bark. Delano adored helping his grandmother in the kitchen, and they spent a lot of time cooking together.

Their grandmother was very old however, and when Delano was sixteen, she got sick and passed away. It absolutely devastated him and he became angry and bitter for a long time. The twins were twenty years old at that point and so they legally adopted their brother and they worked and went to school to support themselves. Delano began getting into trouble at school and he was suspended several times before the principal threatened him with expulsion.

The twins took this extremely seriously and they scolded him and made him apologize to the principal and the student he’d wronged. He’d found the whole thing humiliating and he’d sulked for a good week afterwards, but he stopped getting into trouble. Or rather, he stopped getting caught.

In their final year of highschool, Delano devised a plan for an absolutely massive theft. They were going to rob a jewelry store in the middle of the night and hopefully get enough cash to live comfortably. Delano spent a full month planning every detail carefully and made sure the twins knew what to do in all possible outcomes.

Everything went according to plan and they stole millions worth of jewelry and cash. Delano assured them there was no way they would get caught once everything was melted down and so they spent the entire night tearing gems out of jewelry and melting it down. They were working on the last batch when police swarmed the warehouse and they were all arrested.

The brothers were all separated but the twins were taught what to do in this circumstance. They played dumb and didn’t say a word no matter what anyone said to them. Delano denied knowing anything about the robbery and refused to budge no matter what anyone said to him. They were grilled all night, but none of them admitted a thing.

It was then that Professor Maelstrom introduced himself to Delano and offered him a place at V.I.L.E academy. Delano was skeptical and asked endless questions until finally Maelstrom got impatient. He asked him to join, and Delano had refused unless his brothers were allowed entry as well. 

The twins were not V.I.L.E material, and Maelstrom told him so. They had an extremely low I.Q and V.I.L.E prided itself on only recruiting the best. V.I.L.E were interested in Delano’s mind, and they knew he could do great things for them.

Delano argued and argued that he was more than smart enough for the three of them, and eventually Maelstrom had caved and allowed the twins to go with him.

The three brothers entered V.I.L.E academy and Triple Trouble was born.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**TBC**


End file.
